Everywhere, next day, I looked
For that helpless speckled thing,
Patient forest babe, all ears and eyes,
Watching, waiting, staying.
Gone, as I had hoped, gone
From underneath the tree
To walk beside her mother.
Before long, she will walk alone,
Gambol, jump and play.
I hope she sees another day.
I hope she comes to stay
Where she was born,
Where she lay beneath
The Blue Spruce tree with me.
I adore such creatures, so new and compelling. There was a fawn in a neighborhood where I work, and I watched it grow for a while and then it died, apparently of illness, because it was unmarked. I felt so badly for it, and for its mother, who I had also been watching. I had become so invested in them; it was hard when the little one died.
ReplyDeleteI hope no men interfere with this ones growth to maturity.
ReplyDeleteI hope she makes it. We have lots of deer around here - always such a delight to see them, especially the babies.
ReplyDeleteI really hope she stays and roams near the blue spruce tree....have seen a lot of them dead on NJ roads. Heartening poem.
ReplyDeletethey are beautiful...saw a mom and her young one cutting the backyard the other day...it was so tiny it could not have been a week old...speckled...i hope she grows up as well...smiles.
ReplyDelete