Elk
And on the hill, stood an elk.
A ray of light though the misty, cloudy, dark.
Is it even real?
Fingers reaching out to touch it,
The want
No need
For it to love you.
Fur that is lit by the sun,
Like the softest silk.
Antlers stretching out to the sky,
It sees you,
It is waiting for you.
Choose what you will but beware,
Your eyes might deceive you,
As they often do
When Desperate