Poetry

Fawn

I saw her from the car,

A tiny thing barely able to walk,

Smaller than any fawn I’d seen before.
She was so new, so untouched by the world,
That her beauty – bright white spots in red gold fur;
Dark, round, blinking eyes  – was
Nearly too much to bear.  Her
Small body made my throat tight
With longing.

Next to me, the man who once
Said he loved me
seemed more
Concerned about getting to the viewpoint
Than seeing one more deer.
He continued driving.
I took her loveliness with me,
A reminder that there remained in the world
Something so untainted.
I held the thought of her
To my scarred chest as a balm.

On the way back down the hill,
The viewpoint seen,
I eagerly sought a second glimpse.

Her neck twisted back upon itself,
she lay still and broken.

I am torn between remembering
The vision of her grace
And the horror of her ending.