““When she came to the finger-post She turned right and walked as far as the mountains. Patches of snow lay under the thorny bush That was blue with sloes. She filled her pockets. The sloes piled into the hollows of her skirt. The sunset wind blew cold against her belly And light shrank between the branches While her hands raked in the hard fruit. The reindeer halted before her And claimed her as his wife. She rode home on his back without speaking, Holding her rolled–up skirt, Her free hand grasping the wide antlers To keep her steady on the long ride. [from the poem, The Girl Who Married the Reindeer ]””