The following poem is my entry to the contest… as well as being a poem about an experience with a moos in the wilds of Colorado. Being camped near Monarch Pass [elevation 11.350 ft), maybe a couple thousand feet lower on the banks of the North fork of the Arkansas River in June of 2023. I trust that you’ll enjoy the piece, and leave me a comment or two! Respectfully submitted, Ray Whitaker

BLACK MOOSE

It resonates with me
my encounter with another mysticism of nature
at the edge of the mountain glen.
While chancing to be near it
the large, black mass standing stationary in the aspens
as if to be unnoticed by being still

a bull moose eating leaves from above it’s head
a thin line of silver fur
going from mighty shoulder to mid back
young antlers soon to be a fierce armament
now in velvet, growing
as if to scoop up the world.

Moving closer
keeping a mature pine betwixt
the likely over a thousand pounds of magnificence
and my wonder

thus occupied I did not worry
when he stopped eating
looking in my direction
standing there wondering about me perhaps
as he stood in the dappled sunlight.
Astonished at the proximity
noticing the depth of these brown eyes
pushing souls together, mine to his
brown, mine, to brown, his
iris’ different, mine round, his oval

being in the moment of no thought
now wondering if he had a name
no feeling of fear in that closeness
only around twenty paces separating us
the sun shone on me as I looked
and as if I felt that regal power-black fur
a strength, assurance, commanding the ground
he stood on, like owning the very earth.

He is next to my tree now
having moved so silently
and keeping the thick pine between us,
our eyes locked still
getting what each other had to give
my consciousness mingling
with the being of this immense creature
his long neck craning around, reaching nearly in my space.

I moved away, breaking the mesh
keeping the pine tree between we two
having realized this tree
was woefully small
having become a wood beetle now uncovered under the bark
I retreated to the next few tall pines nearby.

I am the Rhinoceros Beetle now.

Our conversation had not ended
tho no words had been spoken out loud
no malice felt, only a near wistfulness
from the moose and I.

Like a translator would be appreciated
to move the instances together somehow

staring into each other’s eyes
for longer still
feeling the thoughts
each having our own insights
of consciousness
and intuitiveness

that powerful rippling muscled black now moving away
my humanness moved in this moment.

Even wanting to know where all this would go
I did not follow deeper into this thicket, his woods.