Peter Russell

1921-2003 / Bristol

A Recurring Dream

A stag keeps walking in my dreams
He is not what he seems

He carries his great antlers like a tree
That sprouts from his nobility

Far from the shout of field and farm
He knows no harm

He sees me just before I wake
And suddenly a snake

Creeps from the earth beneath his feet
Bearing an ear of wheat

I ask myself what emblem this can be
Of triumph or calamity.
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