Dead Doe
Amid pale green milkweed
wild clover
a rotted deer, curled,
shag-like
after a winter so cold
the trees split open.
I think she couldn't keep up
with the others-
they had no place to go-
and her food,
the frozen grass and twigs,
wouldn't carry her weight.
Now from boney sockets
she stares out on this
cruel luxuriance.
Jim Harrison-1965
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