An early summer’s day,
Heavy with scent and golden with spilled light.
Lush foliage gleams dew-wet.
In the bright silence, a twig snaps.
Into the clearing,
A small nervous doe,
Ears alert, nose raised to the air,
Guards her fawn.
She watches it step delicately between branches,
Pulling, as it goes, on thickly clustered leaves.
Its wide eyes bright,
Tiny nose damp with dew.
Behind them, a long-neglected path
And at its edge a rusted, crumbling sign
Now slick with moss,
Reads: ‘Warning: Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.”
© Anne McMaster 2016