Dusk In the Meadow
Dusk in the meadow lures a fawn and her doe to the oak tree
Where she butts bird feeders with her snout against the hard trunk.
Yellow and black seeds flow in a stream down to the ground
A small sound startles them
The mother’s tail twitches.
Both turn statuesque
Poised. Waiting.
Listening. They are both staring.
My dog catches sight of them now.
She runs toward them, barking.
They turn and ballet themselves into a thick hedge
The last thing I see is a flickering white tail.
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