A Doe and Her Fawn

A Doe and Her Fawn On wobbly legs, the fawn staggers behind the doe, Who pauses to let the newborn catch up. The fawn appears to be just a few hours old. As revealed by its arduous locomotion, And spots of white freckles on its back, Melded into its butterscotch colour fur coat; With those oversized, soft, adoring eyes, Pleading for nourishment. And the white tail doe patient, as mothers go. Licks her offspring, bonding and cleaning. As it nudges her teat with its nose, To stimulate the mammary gland, instinctively; The mother suckles the fawn with her milk. Providing the nutrients necessary for it to grow. The doe stares at me without fear And lets the fawn satiate its hunger. The little head bobbing and tail flagging, As its craving is abated and appetite satisfied; It is contented and ready to continue its journey, In the ways of nature and survival. The doe slowly moves on as the fawn struggles; (Those steps must seem an eternity Requiring energy of a great magnitude) To which the doe senses, and so lays down, And the fawn, from all four, plops down Beside her for a much-needed rest.