Eastend: The Deer Are Limping

Three deer are limping today

On the village streets

One walks on just three legs

The casualties of vehicles no doubt

Some trucks do like to roar

Down these quiet yet never quite empty streets

A lone birdwatcher with binoculars

Hopes for a new bird, a migrant

But finds only raucous starlings today

And one small deer down beside an old house

The deer is dead, and very recently

Its eyes glazing over

In front of this small empty house on Main Street

She makes a note to call the village office

Best to move it soon, before warm weather

Eastend: About The Deer

 
 

 

You can’t help but see them all
The deer who are here
Promenading down the alley
Drinking from the small seasonal lake
Beside the grain elevator
In two’s or three’s or herds of a dozen
Prancing down the avenues
Browsing the lilac hedges
Around small empty houses
Tracks crossing the Frenchman River
Where the ice still holds fast

We live here only on sufferance
In the unceded territory of The Deer