(big)horns

that red scent
from before, cut across the weedy pines

footprints from before, however long ago
maybe an hour, maybe millenia

the scent remains, consequence of time
what was lost there, what wore hooves

Decorated with girthy horns
the cornucopia biologico

and the bristled muzzle, teeth too
would speak no secrets of the sheath

or how they mounted, step by step
the cliff side miles

to taste the leafy wonder of the climb
however long

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