FAWN
Whatever it is
that makes this fawn wait
so very still
camouflaged
in the lawn beside the curb,
it is the hoof
of childhood.
The fawn’s eyes follow
me. Its ears do not flick
nor does it breathe
too heavily. My dogs—
usually vigilant—
miss this gift in the grass.
My dad says a fawn will wait
all day for its mother
even if she leaves it exposed.
I just have to hope she
makes it back okay.