Doe Poem by Carter Norman

she waded among whittled branches
long neck bending over briar
lips pursing before bud and leaf
plucking tenderness from thorns
consuming each promise of spring
standing in the thicket
her eyes raised to mine in soft silent soliloquy
I must have appeared a school boy
without promise or poise
bearing neither gift nor serenade
for she turned as women do
with graceful indifference
and skipped between tall slats of balsam
back into the shadowed reservoir
where all beauty resides