The Yearling Poem by chris schwartz
The Yearling
Raise the Yearling
Into a doe,
So she can be fought over
Lusted upon.
She runs,
Her white tail
More beautiful
Than others,
Reflecting
On Autumn leaves
Sure to peril.
Lock your horns,
And realize,
That she will run,
Go down fighting,
Though she knows not
What she's fighting for.
She just remembers,
The cry of the yearling,
And wonders,
Ever more.
Monday, October 9, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: love and life
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4/27/2024 12:02:57 AM # 1.0.0.1119
