High on a meadow

at the edge of the western world,

the animals come to taste

of the feast only rain on

grass can bring.

Living there, you must tell yourself

to look for the quiet ones

that come to graze

on the dew touched grass.

Be quiet and watchful

and you will see four delicate

legs planted on the grass.

The nose to the ground

is black as a moonless night.

This three rack guest sees me.

He too is watchful and quiet.

If he blinks, I don’t see it.

I see only the dark depths of his eyes.

I wonder as I often do what he sees.

Deciding in my favor, he goes back

to his early morning meal.

It takes him behind the pine tree

and soon he vanishes back

into the meadows and forest.

Hush, the doe have come to dine.

Two pairs of eyes stare at me.

Then dip their heads to the bright

green grass. I cannot help

but wonder what they’re here

to tell me of their world.

Perhaps I can guess their message.

I imagine a satisfaction of place

and an acceptance of life

on the edge of man and forest.

Janice DeRuiter 2014