Steven G.

The Deer

I look up to the looming trees
and listen to their melodies;
the sound of wind between their leaves
puts the mind and heart at ease.

The crisp brown leaves rattle and shake
as I lay down my large blue rake
there are certain things that I must take
from the ground and then but wait;

Out of the corner of my eye a deer appears
his curious face stares back and leers;
his ears perk up when he hears
the sound of the wind as it clears

The leaves of the tree that drift to the ground
and as time stops turning ‘round
even the blinking of an eye can make a sound
like the steps of a beetle walking around

And as my mind continues to adore
he leaps away and is never more
and when watching for him starts to bore
I pick up my rake to finish my chore


Copyright 2002-2007 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2007 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.