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The Deer and the Chinaman

Driving for my morning coffee I pass the old Chinaman’s vegetable garden. A deer in its winter fur stands motionless vapor streaming from its nostrils. It’s the end of November. The garden still has enough greens left to satisfy the deer’s appetite – enough to fuel its journey to wherever that might be. I pass the house catching a glimpse of the old man looking out a window in cap and jacket, the very same he wears each winter morning when in the garden. He’s watching the deer, delighted by its presence, no doubt, waiting for it to eat its fill, happy to be generous to the deer as his garden has been to him. At the coffee shop I sip my coffee reviewing my experience with the deer and the old chinaman. Ageing does have its rewards.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

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Date: 2/13/2020 9:15:00 AM
I can see it, and it feels terrific!
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Date: 1/31/2020 9:01:00 PM
This perfectly lovely. Vivid but soft. I wish I could sink as softly as the Chinaman into old age.
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