Wandering Doe

This season of life, this season of death
my alveoli bubble with my life,
gas exchange at a delicate membrane
that feeds the fire that lets me yearn and burn

you were fleeting as the does that graze green
in the meadow at twilight forest edge, 
you were found and then you were lost and yet
you remain as inner aspect of me

you are active in my dreams where I roam
as a buck seeking what I cannot find,
you stay away in moonlit peekaboo,
I mistake half shadow for news of you

the fractal fact of you, self-similar
wandering doe in wondering Jew