The Drinking Pool Poem by Terry Finch

In a frosty morning's solitude,
sunlight's piercing Autumn leaves.
A peaceful silent interlude
in an endless sea of trees.

The deer are coming down the hill
to their favorite drinking pool.
The hardwood forest stands so still,
and the air is crisp and cool.

A squirrel scolds from highest limb
with a warning to his friends.
This noise could be the end of him
and the fortress he defends.

There's fluffy snowflakes drifting down
outside my windowpane.
It's dusting all the grass in town
and this gentle country lane.

The roofs of houses all in white
as far as the eye can see.
The snowflakes falling through the night
landed soft and silently.

The clouds are racing fast ahead
in an ever darker sky.
So many things are left unsaid
in the blinking of an eye.

Such simple things are unrehearsed
for the laws of Nature rule.
The deer will come to quench their thirst
from their favorite drinking pool.