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.