Quarry
A lifetime since I’d last ignored the signs forbidding us from entering the caved-in skull of that old pit of stone, I jumped the barbed-wire fence and found its eggshell quiet eerily intact. The inward path—forgetful in a fog of green that seemed to float above the soil—lay still ahead of me; the air of something that remained asleep where it had come to rest an age ago. I made no sound until I reached the sheer basin of the quarry: stones scattering underfoot and echoing around its powdery facades, as though to rouse some ancient theatre. And then this timeless scene—rapids of deer cutting across my line of sight and vanishing into brush—leaving me just a flash of the topaz in their eyes—
A good test of a poem is to read it out loud. I did, because I was taken by the eloquence of the first stanza. I wasn't disappointed. Thank you.
Can I share one reaction? I bristled at "timeless scene". If the flashing gems stones of the deer's eyes don't do the trick, the adjective 'timeless' isn't needed, and if the eyes don't bring it off, calling it timeless won't help.
"the caved-in skull of that old pit of stone," is a great image and "eggshell quiet" pairs so nicely with it, as if the skull were also an egg.
"forgetful in a fog" and the skull and the sense of the ancient mystery of it all put me in mind of Kazuo Ishiguro's The Buried Giant.
"rapids of deer
cutting across my line of sight" is delightful. As is the final flash of topaz in their eyes.