Meanwhile Ran a Gazelle

Meanwhile ran a gazelle across some tapestry

of mind. One could not discern what were

the flowers—red and blue and yellow—about her pointed hooves

but a pear tree arose behind her left shoulder

and a river rippled one white foot, just before

she leapt. I thought a wind swept

the diapered gilt behind her; and horns blew

through the fruit-heavy tree.

Oh Artemis, where are your smiling arrows?

And where the moon that should have silvered you?