Dividing

a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

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The Hunter

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

I look for places
where deer could hide
in dense thickets
or in wetlands with tall reeds--
too hard for hunters to enter.

I remember you telling me
that you would see deer
lying down in the swamps,
water up to their faces,
hiding from approaching hunters.

You, who went out each day
during hunting season
to hunt deer,
then came back at night
to tell us
you saw nothing that day—

walking your land
but never raising the gun
to your chest.

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Escape

a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

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Anytime

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Sometimes I want to go to you
but remember that I have
put you in a special room
far from here,
a room, nonetheless,
with an open door,
so that I can enter
anytime.

So, I can see
your smile when you
were running with Shiva,
the golden lab,
through autumn leaves
in a special forest
long ago.
So, I can walk through that door
anytime.

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Landscape with Birds

pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

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BUTTERFLY MAN

a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

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Sleeping Horse

a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

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Moon

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

The moon is most beautiful
at her beginning, or end.
Like a fine-edged sickle
punctuating the blackness.

Minimal.
A lot like you.
Not outstanding.
Almost missed.
Nevertheless beautiful.

Step outside with me.
We’ll see her
from the steps.
Let your skin
touch the cold.

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Marriage by the Inland Sea

a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

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Sunset at Chaco Canyon Ruins

In Memory of Kevin Michael Davis, February 16, 1982 – July 23, 2010

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