The Fawn

I just finished watching the series of DVD's called White Fang (it has nothing to do with Jack London). There were 25 great adventure episodes of a teen age boy and his wolf/dog White Fang. It was also a lot about this boy, Matt's parents, who moved from the big city life to extremely rural life and were lovin' it. One of the episodes involved a fawn, so I thought this poem would be appropriate for today - and for the beautiful summer months.

THE FAWN
By Edna St. Vincent Millay

There it was I saw what I shall never forget
And never retrieve.
Monstrous and beautiful to human eyes, hard to believe,
He lay, yet there he lay,
Asleep on the moss, his head on his polished cleft small
ebony hooves,
The child of the doe, the dappled child of the deer.

Surely his mother had never said, "Lie here
Till I return," so spotty and plain to see
On the green moss lay he.
His eyes had opened; he considered me.

I would have given more than I care to say
To thrifty ears, might I have had him for my friend
One moment on that forest day:

Might I have had the acceptance, not the love
Of those clear eyes;
Might I have been for him the bough above
Or the root beneath his forest bed,
A part of the forest, seen without surprise.

Was it alarm, or was it the wind of my fear lest he depart
That jerked him to his jointy knees
And sent him crashing off, leaping and stumbling
On his new legs, between the stems of the white trees?