One Never Really Knows

I step outside my door to smoke, and find
A deer, a doe, a little way across the yard
From me. It starts, of course, but doesn't
Bolt. It stares. It chews, Its eyes appear
To signal it's confused by me. “What is
This creature here, alight? Is it one which
I ought to fear?” I stay in place, stare back,
Inhale. In time, it turns to walk away.
It does so slowly, sensing, it would seem,
That I am not a threat, and, if I was, I'd
Be too slow to catch it, should I want to
Eat. It slips, that way that deer can do,
Into the trees and disappears, and I, still
Smoking, shake my head. It isn't only
Other human minds that ours can't
Comprehend.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 72 times
Written on 2016-02-25 at 00:42

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