Observing the Doe

Yesterday I wandered off into the woods
of Delaware, behind my grandfather's house.
I tiptoed about conspicuously,
finally stopping in a clearing that caught my eye.

It was circle-like and so filled with light that
I wondered if radiance shone from the ground up.
And as I walked its radius to the center,
I felt as though I tred a hallowed ground.

Reverently I crossed and ensconced myself
in the tall grasses where the sunlight fell down
around the leaves above, painting shadows.
Only a moment...then quick, brave, a doe

darted out, highstepping and classy she was.
With practiced grace, she folded her legs
beneath her and curtsied down to the grass,
the sun, as king, accepting her with warmth.

I watched her, fascinated by the amber frock,
open at the chest, with the creamy blouse
that spilled out in frills. Her legs were so thin
and delicate, down to the dainty heels.

A drowsy peace again overtook the dell.
Had she even seen me? Or had I hidden myself
with seconds to spare? I refused to move
and she lay, alert, in her stolen sanctuary.