Even though the dark was closing in
I silently sat in the back yard
And waited for the deer 

Making their way across my yard 
To the other side of town.
I didn’t know what they did

When they got there,
But I liked to see them come and go
Without noise in the dusk.

In Spring, they are
Black across their back
Brown further down,

And little ones hop and dance.
As the night fell and lights came on in town
It was harder to see them;

Black shapes moving and some caught
In the headlights of cars passing.
The river calls them,

And fields of fresh grown grass;
Cedars to browse with tasty green branches,
The deer picnic under the stars.




By Diane E. Dockum
©April 26, 2026