The Moose

There's fire in the mountains
Morning looked like one of those
Pixelated sunrises

over the Serengeti

Only instead of endless flat
It was a dusty orange orb
Rising over rocks and pines

Smoke and clouds
rolled into camp all day
Close enough to notice
Far enough away to be ignored

A day ticked by
spent in a field
never going further
than the nearby lake

And now night is
closing in
Faint lines of orange
mixing with smoke
on the horizon

And in the fading light
A giant moose dips her head
into the lake

in the cool water on her legs
the skim of warmth
on the surface
that greets her velvet muzzle

On the bank her calf looks on
A young student
in the art of joy