deer – The Morning Porch/Patio

Sunday April 08, 2018

Dave Bonta April 8, 2018 1

Weak sunlight and the creek’s quiet gurgle. I think of the dead deer up in the field, her throat torn open by coyotes, feeding their songs.

Dave Bonta February 11, 2018

An ostinato of dripping on the porch roof. The fog advances, retreats. Somewhere a deer snorts. Drenched squirrels bound over the slush.

Dave Bonta January 3, 2018

Deer came in the night and dug up half the yard to get at the evergreen myrtle. Sun pours down from a cloudless sky. A song sparrow sings.

Dave Bonta December 15, 2017

A cold gray day. Juncos forage on the road and in the yard where a deer has dug. The dull knocks of a pileated woodpecker trepanning an oak.

Dave Bonta November 9, 2017

Cloudy and cold. The quiet tapping of a downy woodpecker. A deer hunter appears, his bloody quarry sliding behind him on the fallen leaves.

Dave Bonta October 23, 2017

Brighter color between the trees: sunrise. Gray as their trunks: a doe and her grown fawns. From down hollow, a screech owl’s trill.

Dave Bonta April 5, 2017 1

Deer follow their long-legged shadows through the trees. Three phoebes chase through the branches and three chipmunks through the leaf duff.

Dave Bonta December 11, 2016

The morning after the end of deer season and an inch and a half of new snow covers the evidence—the gut piles, the trails of blood and hair.

Dave Bonta August 5, 2016

Sunrise. A deer grazes at the woods’ edge. A phoebe perches beside her and makes repeated sorties over her back, snapping up the deerflies.

Dave Bonta July 11, 2016 1

Strong sun, deep shadow. Off in the woods, two deer-shaped silhouettes glide through a sunlit glade. A mourning dove coos a single note.