Rarely, do I take a ride this far
on a morning with work and holidays pressing
so close upon my mind
But the fawn I see, scouring the exposed
grasses, hurrying to eat before the next snowfall
reminds me that survival
appears differently depending
on one’s vantage point,
what one has escaped from,
what one is preparing for.
And the big brown eyes
look downward and then back again
wondering, “Am I safe here?”
And the camera clicks and the fawn,
in a rush to beat winter,
scratches his behind and goes back
to surviving just as I turn the car
around headed off
to do the same.
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