"The Polka-dot Deer"
The breezes carried the scent of her fear
To the nose, to the nostrils, of the polka-dot deer
And she bounded for the trees, with a jig and a jag,
Right past the cows and the sway-back old nag.
She dined with them, daily, near the alfalfa field,
In the pasture grasses, at full Summer yield.
They didn’t object and she liked being there
It seemed to set her at ease and lifted her care.
So young and alone, her mother was gone.
I found her on the roadside, last month, at dawn.
She stayed at the sight until they took the body away
And laid in the grasses for another day.
I wanted to protect her, to mother her some,
To give her the time until Summer was done
But one scent of me sent her to the wood
And I suppose that was best; yes, that was good.
A cow let her nurse, that was a new one on me(?)
And I keep hanging apples on that dead lemon tree
Then 'long came a Doe with only one Fawn
She accepted her quickly and soon they moved on.
Well, the cow ain’t fret-tin or looking for her
And we are getting more milk, that is for sure.
Yes, I’m happy for the Fawn and kind of sorry for me
I liked hanging apples on that stupid old tree.
D. Thurmond
