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(410) The Doe - Williams

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  • Sam Droege
    The Doe Near dusk, near a path, near a brook, we stopped, I in disquiet and dismay for the suffering of someone I loved, the doe in her always incipient alarm.
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 26, 2003
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      The Doe

      Near dusk, near a path, near a brook,

      we stopped, I in disquiet and dismay

      for the suffering of someone I loved,

      the doe in her always incipient alarm.



      All that moved was her pivoting ear

      the reddening sun shining through

      transformed to a color I'd only seen

      in a photo of a child in a womb.



      Nothing else stirred, not a leaf,

      not the air, but she startled and bolted

      away from me into the crackling brush.



      The part of my pain which sometimes

      releases me from it fled with her, the rest,

      in the rake of the late light, stayed.



      - C.K. Williams



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