The Deer

How majestically he stood
At the edge of the wood,
Then with tentative stop, he came
As if someone called his name,
Down the hillside, then a pause;
I do not know what the cause
But with a frantic glance around
Hoof beats pounded at the ground
And with a graceful leap in space,
The white tailed buck left in his place
Only tracks of where he'd been
Wonder if I'll see him again?

by Joyce Horovitz

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