The thrill of our new place
was like the fragile heartbeat of the fawn
outside the mud room window.
It nosed fallen pears in the damp grass
alongside its mother.
Blinking greed, pride, fear, wonder,
I wanted to trap and keep the moment,
my thoughts flashing like feet across the highway:
powerful fast, four hooves thumping,
lucky, lucky, lucky, and dead.
Our first human guests
rode in the back of the truck
descending the leafy drive,
admiring the shining water.
Then I saw, outside my window
the broken doe on the road.
I never knew what happened to the fawn.
In my dark, coveting heart
I had brought the city here
and with my quick, flirting eyes
I had tried to own the world.