Contemporary Poetry
1 min
The Yearling
Elizabeth Kerlikowske
hobbles to the salt lick,
licks, back hoof off the ground.
Gash infected or healing over
on his hip. I can't tell.
Another car/deer crash.
That can't explain his ears,
sprouting inner white hair
but tips gone. Spring frostbite?
Lumpy swells where antlers will
break through further garnish him.
He was a twin. His brother gone
one afternoon, another car/deer crash.
His mother still trains him though
he is maimed. He loves eating
sage and likes to sprawl in oregano.
He may not make it through
the winter, but in this late
December sun with a fresh
apple and his mother close,
he does not suffer.
licks, back hoof off the ground.
Gash infected or healing over
on his hip. I can't tell.
Another car/deer crash.
That can't explain his ears,
sprouting inner white hair
but tips gone. Spring frostbite?
Lumpy swells where antlers will
break through further garnish him.
He was a twin. His brother gone
one afternoon, another car/deer crash.
His mother still trains him though
he is maimed. He loves eating
sage and likes to sprawl in oregano.
He may not make it through
the winter, but in this late
December sun with a fresh
apple and his mother close,
he does not suffer.
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