Advent: Moose in Moonlight

By Anita Tanner



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…he hath no form nor comeliness;

and when we shall see him

there is no beauty

that we should desire him.

                           —Isaiah 53:2


Among the death of foliage

in skeleton trees

he appears, moonlight gracing

his rack—that upturned,


awe-inspiring crown.

Hint of his heavy breath

grizzles the air

beside the ponderous weight.


He comes to the edge, pauses

as witness of winter’s extremities,

careful that our eyes meet:

stark litigant.


Flake by flake the dark earth

fills with exquisite whiteness,

depth and abundance amplified

longer than the moon endures.