He did not know what he was doing.
His brain was addled from the long winter -
there was no more food in his part of the woods
His coat was getting dull
It was a matter of survival -
stealing into the orchard
to nibble at the blueberry buds
just before the sun peeked in the horizon.
He was careful to stay hidden
behind the trunk of the big mulberry;
He had already made the owner quite angry
by his intrusions.
He was going to run
across the mounds of snow
just as he used to
but he was
he had to eat
he did not hear
the house door creak
the shotgun's squeak
he did not heed
his sprinting herd
but he did
For DVerse Poets' Anthropomorphism prompt by Lillian.
9 thoughts on “SPRING DEER”
Poor deer. So very hungry. Not verybsporting of the gunman. You made me feel deeply for the deer. I always out out hay and corn for the deer and other critters.
This one really struck a chord with me 🙂 The deer in my neighborhood have already eaten all the tulips that were sprouting in my front yard, and I was very upset until my husband reminded me that the deer got something to eat.
This piece was inspired by the deer that forage in my in-laws’ place in ME. They cannot actually shoot deer (especially at springtime) though they may be itching to. What they do is to hang Irish spring soap on the bushes, spray them with bear pheromones, and such. They used to have a dog who scared them away.
Oh deer.. I do know them, mostly going after tulips… but no shotgun for me, I grow daffodils instead, deer don’t eat them
Realistic story about the deer. I suspect there is enough food for all.
Oh you’ve done well with this prompt! Your pacing and spacing bring me to the ending I feel is coming but don’t want to come — which means you’ve achieved the goal of anthropomorphizing the deer. Well done.
Well done. I felt for the deer too, although realising his end was nigh.
What a sad tale. We live very near a large park where there are many deer. Such beautiful animals.
Oh, no, oh, no! I couldn’t begrudge them a bit of food after a long winter – a very moving poem, putting us right into the poor creature’s head!