I raise my head and spot her
In her winter coat, chestnut-colored, darker,
Rougher though I've never touched it, never gotten near
(We're merely yards apart).
No fawn to synchronize this time of year,
To mark each flutter, flick of ear.
They're meant to live in tandem, these white-tails.
But there she is, independent,
Nosing deep for something almost gone. I'm not here.
Standing quiet now, now alert, then bends once more to the deed.
She's gone, so nimbly I barely see, sheltered by dusk, her own vigilance
Errless, dancing between bare trees.
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