Poem -
Pan
The waiting piper (for Damien, my Pan)
Young bucks abound
Tossing their antlers around
Old stags pass, but stop to bow down
Antlers low to the ground
But the Piper, the Aries, the wild Goat
Stands high in the mountains alone
Wild and free, as he knows his Goddess must be
He simply waits dancing from stone to stone
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