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Chris Bullard

Instant

A white-tailed deer strides into
the Wissahickon, stops mid-stream,
bordered by water, framed by trees.

My eye clicks like a latch as I create
a holding of this time and place,
my own box containing a deer shape

joined with a lack of breeze, sweat
salting my lips, dots of humming

insects and shade like blue weather.

Before sleep, between tasks, whenever
my hold on the immediate slackens,
I return to that image. I see her bend

to the water, sip, and raise up,
each movement a natural fragment,
a chapter in a story from another life.

 

 

Chris Bullard is a retired judge who lives in Philadelphia, PA. In 2022, Main Street Rag published his poetry chapbook, Florida Man, and Moonstone Press published his poetry chapbook, The Rainclouds of y. His poetry has appeared recently in Jersey Devil, Stonecrop, Wrath-Bearing Tree, Waccamaw and other publications. He was nominated this year for the Pushcart Prize,

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