This is a work in progress and I would appreciate any comments that will help me knock it in to shape so I am posting it for One-Shot Wednesday.
Low clouds meld
With stricken meadow,
Distant silver birch, tarnished streaks
In blasted landscape. Field levelled
By frost – thick as snow.
Single tracks criss cross
Into tangled thicket. Bramble coils,
Threaded, razored blockade beneath
Willow whips. Birch withies
Flex in windswept time with
Blasted, beech branches.
Follow that single track upwind.
Stand sentinel by thorny barricade.
That wad of desiccated leaves,
Fawn and lifeless – trace it with your eye.
Move just your eye. Follow
The gentle curve to cream oval tuft – and
Back again. Look beyond
The skein of khaki stalks.
Sketch dark, damp glistening stone.
See it twitch? Be still, be silent.
She knows you’re here.
Watch her ears,
Furred sienna trumpets, raise
And twist to trap the scratch
Of your breath. You will
Not keep her. Be ready – the doe will
Rise and run in one smooth,
Fluid move, breach the bramble barrier,
Duck under scrabbling branches,
Leap and zig and bound
And zag and rise over
Hedge, ditch, fence – alluring,
Graceful and then – stop.
With single bark, hoarse echoing warning,
She’ll blend her winter, biscuit- beige body
Tidily, quietly with