Deer

Deer

Stumbling, I almost fall forward,

A stray bootlace dragged in the mud

Of the trail as I wearily walk,

So bend down to make the thing good.

Glad of the rest, but breaking my rhythm,

Quickly all fingers and thumbs,

Then looking up suddenly

I am almost struck dumb.

Frightened, but standing her ground,

Stands the trembling, terrified beast,

Staring unblinking straight forward,

Determined to face me, at least.

Her coat slick, and shining brown,

With the faintest light marking,

Ears and tail both erect and alert,

Mouth open, a-quiver, darkling.

Not thirty feet between us,

The doe regretting her error,

Unwilling to turn her back upon me,

Despite her evident terror.

Time stands still for an instant,

The deer holding my stare,

No sound and no movement

For either of us, both fully aware.

Unmoving, the tableau continues,

A stand-off on the track,

Impossible to break away,

Neither can turn back.

This meeting of different worlds,

Here in the heat of the day,

Each uncomprehending the other,

The deer desperate to slip away.

Her deep eyes, languid and black,

So beautiful, striking and wild,

I am simply transfixed by her presence,

The sight of her has me beguiled.

Then a change of scent, or some movement,

Perhaps a sound somewhere to the right,

It takes just less than a second,

And she’s suddenly passed from my sight.

The bushes have swallowed her up,

And with a movement of some grace,

The lady has turned and fled,

Vanished, leaving without any trace.

I look about for her, of course,

Searching around everywhere,

But Nature has concealed her well,

Almost as if she’d never been there.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2016