Big, Strong,
Beautiful, mysterious
As I bound through the bountiful trees
With the leaves falling around me like little skydivers
as I look for my fawn
I remember that I have none
because the car
because of the instinct to freeze
instead of flee
my fawn is dead
but I am a deer,
and that is that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem