Volume 12, Number 65, 2009
by Jean Parsons
Something awakened me.
A distant sound from somewhere outside
My body stilled
My brain alert
Moved to the window
A half orb of golden moon
Hung low in the western sky.
The yard, the slough, the willows
A patchwork of white snow and black shadows
Again, the sound
Louder, more distinct, more drawn out. Yowling.
I opened the window
Breathing in the frosty freshness
Transfixed by that repeated call of wild perfection
Becoming one with the heartbeat of the night.
A doe and two yearlings
Trapped in our yard
Beyond the fence
A second doe anxiously trotting backwards and forwards
Following the panicky movements of the three.
The trapped deer, cornered at the end of the fence, paced nervously.
Ray slipped outdoors
Opened the gate.
The doe outside the fence trotted towards the opening
The confined doe leaped the fence.
The yearlings swept hurriedly through our opened gate.