Black ponderosa, spiked needles lit in stars,
And a muffled drumroll of hooves in the dark—
Early morning on the mesa in the park.
Know why you’re so prone to stupid fantasies?
Not a character trait. Not to do with you.
Your brain’s background systems need something to do.
Alone with the largest planet and the deer,
Rare solitude may still find your mind at play
With human daydreams until actual day.
It’s okay. Day dawns, whatever you’re thinking.
Startled hooves startle you. The birds are singing.
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