Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
ACT I: The Woodland
Sunny skyways make for a great day trip;
The breeze swirling in wisps around the land,
Mountains skyward kiss the blue’s lower lip
As earth’s veins flow from here to ocean sand.
Birdies fly in the vast expanse above,
Woodland creatures frolic beneath my hooves—
It’s the run I find really cool, love—
Getting my firm hooves into the wild grooves.
Which brings me to this oddity I’ve found—
It’s black and hard and filled with lots of crud—
My hooves click and they clack unlike the ground,
And the reminiscent scent of lifeblood.
I’m not sure what to make of this strange find,
I guess we will cross and pay it no mind.
ACT II: The Crossing
Now, little fawn, we must cross this quickly,
Get to the other side and explore those things—
Before a fast blur hits and really stings—
Those big and hard boxes that look sickly.
Avoid those bushes, they look real prickly—
A click and a clack, that sound really sings.
Okay, we cross and see what our trip brings;
That’s it, small one, build your legs up thickly.
Oh dear, now that we are here, it’s now clear,
There’s one of those stoop people right there!
It’s okay, precious one, though there’s need to fear;
Remember, they are humans, we are deer...
Stay close to me, they might stay unaware;
If they don’t, we must break for it clear.
ACT III: The Encounter
Fern it! Forgive me, little one, I slipped,
As that human has now become aware
That we are approaching with cautious care;
It’s standing, moving closer; oops, it slipped,
For it never cleared that seat and it tripped.
Keep moving, little spotted one, don’t stare
At it or it will come here like a bear.
See what I mean, I have not merely quipped,
That thing is heading right on over here,
With a shiny, thin, weird box on a stick.
Quick, run, this is our chance to get out now.
Look, there’s the woods, away from where it’s clear.
We can reach it quick , which will be our fix.
Hide in our home with no sweat off their brow.
ACT IV: Memories Materialize
As we run, my dearest one, I’ll quick say—
Careful as we’ll cross more of that hard junk—
The world around us once wasn’t this way,
It was green, blue, brown without this funk.
That’s right, my fawn, this you really should know—
That black stuff’s closer, keep your head up—
Through here the water used to flow,
And trees towered so tall, so high.
Cousin beaver made dams,
Sister squirrel just loved her nuts,
The bear, well he was always a bother...
Human comes, don’t slow down.
Remember this, young girl,
Mommy tells truth.
ACT V: Crossing Over
Keep going, sweet one, the time has arrived,
We can make it clear before it comes here—
We are quicker, that’s why we have survived—
But we should still keep a good dose of fear.
Once more, let’s cross over to the far side,
Then we can get into the wooded dark—
You need to hurry to protect your hide—
This here, my daughter, is no place to park.
More clicks and more clacks, more clicks and more clacks—
I’m close to the other side, keep your stride—
That is the sound of our hooves at our backs.
Oh, bog! A blur coming from your blind side.
The horror, the horror has now become
The fact that the blur killed you, my only one.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, July 1, 2026.
Tittu
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SEASONS, a psychedelic musical journey, has been released.
If you enjoy my writing, I'd love for you to check out my new album, Seasons, for FREE as well as on my Bandcamp. You may recognize songs such as Shifting Spring and Summer Storm, both which were soft released here earlier this spring and last summer, respectively.
This music is offered without a paywall. If it speaks to you, take it. If you'd like to support my work, you are welcome to pay whatever you feel it is worth. My hope is not simply to sell music, but to share it. I would rather these pieces be heard than hidden behind a price.
If you enjoy it, please consider sharing it with someone who might as well. Word of mouth is the greatest gift an independent artist can receive.
Download and listen here, and do DM me to let me know what you think. https://vallismortis.bandcamp.com/album/seasons
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: July 1st, 2026 05:35
- Comment from author about the poem: Part of the Wait. What?!? collection. This is written in my original form, The Globe's Stage, which consists of two Shakespearean sonnets, a Petrarchan sonnet, and my original Ghost Sonnet (Act IV). Dedicated to my furry frequenting neighbors.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Salvia.S
- In collections: Wait. What?!?.
Offline)
Comments5
Wait what???? Kudos love Sonnet and theses are fabulous 👏👏👏👏❤️
Thank you so much, Teddy! 😊 I'm thrilled you enjoyed it. That "Wait what????" made me smile because that's exactly the kind of reaction I was hoping for with this collection. And I'm especially glad the sonnet sequence worked for you. Really appreciate your kindness, my friend! 🦌🌲💔🙏
I have one Italian sonnet and it took 3 years to write today I'm impressed would be an understatement. 💜
Fern and deer seem to go together in any scenario. But don’t mind me. Just a random thought.🕊️🙏🏻
😂 They really do, don't they, arqios? I suppose if you're going to invent a woodland swear, I figured, "Fern it!" Why not use fern? Safe bet, no? 🤣 Thanks for the laugh, my friend! 🦌🌲💔🙏
Tristan this is quite a story in poetic form told in the first person that makes it more impactful. It takes us on a journey from the animal point of view personified. The reader is placed in the position of thinking how they would feel being invaded by another species their home taken, property altered and young killed. It provokes a sense of empathy and reflection upon what we are doing and have done to nature. It is brutal as nature and soft as maternal love. Well written it in metaphor tells us of what we are doing to ourselves, making the earth more dangerous and killing ourselves with our self perceived progress. A most powerful write my friend.
Thank you so much, Soren. 😊 I'm really glad the mother's voice and the deer's perspective carried the story for you. My hope was to invite readers to experience the world from the other side for just a few moments, and I'm grateful that journey resonated with you. Thank you for such a thoughtful response, my friend. 🦌🌲💔🙏
My pleasure my friend
And Wait. What? A sound of Mr P Solus, a certain glugging sound.....lol. What ARE we talking about? WCAT!
😂 Orchi, I think you've just summed up the entire spirit of Wait. What?!? in four letters...WCAT! One minute we're following a mother deer...the next Mr. P. Solus is off making mysterious glugging noises, which, let's be honest, is exactly why the damn deer ran to begin with. Silly glugging stoop human. 🤣 At this point, I don't question it anymore...I just nod and carry on. Thanks for the laugh, my friend! 🦌🌲💔🙏
Let's blame Popeye. It's probably his fault, why 99% of things go wrong. It's that distracting glug, we know! lol
Enjoyable Read. 👍
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