Two fawns barely old enough
to graze slip inside the white
taped fence from the shelter
of the woods, their spots still
bright, their mother on patrol.
I look away and sigh
at the disorder of
my kitchen—last night’s
pasta with Italian sausage
onions and green peppers
took a lot of pots. I ought
to clean up my mess now.
But these are the first twins
I’ve seen this year, fresh
and glittering, so I look back
only to find them gone.
Any pursuit of wonder
requires obsessive vigilance.
From The Deer Diaries