Antlered Pines

Where the wind blows
Through the boughs of the pines.
Moon full and old sets below
Running deer mountain.

Across the sky
Stars mark their celestial path.
A pathway leading to sleepy time
On the other side of deer mountain.

Sitting on top of a hill
Wind in the antlered pines.
Step by step we return
To magic time.

Over the shoulder for good luck
Went running the swift buck.