That Sunday afternoon,
Out on the verdant lawn
On the verge of the wood
An alien stood:
Well it could have been!
I came back to earth
And looked again.
It was a Sika stag-
Head on;
Straight-up antlers-
Antenna like.
No more doubt;
Strangers staring: daring.
Still no move.
Head down, grazing:
This noble animal icon
An honour to behold-
Past glories of centuries
Only a look away.
Out of bounds here,
Far from the herd
And mountain forests:
Making me a part of time,
Sharing his wild life
Until the sounds of children
Made him swing about,
His tail a flash of white.
Back to the wood he fled
As if he never was-
My strong brown Sika deer.
Now I often look and think
That he might reappear.
Matt Mooney
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/like-an-alien/
