“My little horse must think it queer”*

to see the big deer standing so near

At this hour no other stake

was guarded like a great keepsake.

 

But when the buck tilted his prongs

then one could see what lingers here

The grass so filled the stream and blake

It hid a tiny spotted fawn, not quite awake.

 

The eyes of the buck fixed still on mine

We stood our ground and passed the time.

I whispered in the breeze so light

Don’t quake my friend, I will not cause you heartache.

 

Inspired by Robert Frost https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42891/stopping-by-woods-on-a-snowy-evening