Deer Season

Leaves fallen
Feathers plucked
Skin left naked and raw
Open to the whim of the wind

She steps away
Stripped of her robe
Fallen at her pale feet
Exposed and vulnerable
And lies upon a new land
Cold and hard and uninviting
Not a whisper spoken to her
No secrets to show her yet
Nothing but a cold blank stare

She longs to feel
Against the freezing ground she presses her boney spine
Arches her neck and looks up at a sky she does not yet recognize
A stranger above her
Her eyes roll back
Hiding blue as a sky behind thin clouds
White reveals a void
Releasing a guttural moan
An unfathomable sigh
Giving in
Giving up

She remembers standing up
Taking a stand
Vaguely recalls what she stood for
A dream behind billows or a dancer behind a veil
And for a moment she blends into the brown and rotting leaves
Blowing about her like a dirty halo
The rich musky perfume overwhelms
Dulls her other sense
Her wildly racing thoughts
And she rests
Quiet as the sleeping doe
Awaiting the hunters footsteps

Thank you for your interest in Gin's writing.

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