Some Shadows

In these woods at Timber
lately without birds
and visible mammals,
it’s only the river I hear
and the breathing of plants.

A shadow slips past. Something
peripheral to my gaze
fawns like rabbits
three bounce away.

And there’s the doe still
as I creep up
only to discover a stump
very still
as it has been over the years.

I don’t know why it seems strange
that the fawns pass dry bones
leg bones of a buck
with no hesitation at all.

Robert A. Davies has published in recent years largely online. He has been writing poems seriously since 1969. He has published Timber, Tracks in Oregon, Melons and Mendelssohn, and Bluff Hollow. He was co-editor of Mr. Cogito for about 20 years. He has recently appeared in Dissident Voice and Windfall He can be reached at: Read other articles by Robert A..