it is such a sad thing that people ****
these beautiful beasts, i say
to myself as my eyes lock onto the

mirrored tawny frames of the
animals only a short distance from me.

they did not run yet, one’s
graceful neck turned in my direction
(was it thinking the same of me?)

time stopped
still on that calm
dirt street; three deer in a
row before they
gallop away and i know

this is what it means to feel free.