Deer trail


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                                /│  //     //  ││
                               //  //     //   //                       ★SJFM

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Level and gravel and straight,

on my right, first the creek and then the cliff-side,

left the steep hill that reaches up say fifty feet,

my co-sojourner the landscape accompanied me

as the path prescribed for me my footsteps.

Looking on forward I saw no bend or fork,

and thinking myself not having any say,

I stayed steady on that same familiar way.

But as the creek strayed further and the forest grew,

I saw in the bush a half-trodden trail.

I could scarcely see which way it went

as it bent this way and that,

saplings arching too low, too narrow for me

to make my way to that uncertain place.

Besides, I reasoned, this way was not made

by human hands for human feet.

Probably it was first formed by some dog or deer

that on instinct or fear darted into the forest,

and in its haste it tore some brambles from a tree

or trampled the young leaves of some vine,

leaving some rough clearing for the next time

another scared animal would part the trail deeper.

So it goes that such trails are formed

by dumb luck and nothing more,

and so I chose again that same path

I’d walked a hundred times before,

thinking myself wiser having had my path precede me,

while other animals know

the steps come first and then the way follows.