deer – Page 13 – The Morning Porch

July 30, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Glory be to God for punctuation: the fawn’s spots glowing in the gloom, drifting insect-motes, garlic in the yard, a ten-second rain.

July 28, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Scattered bird calls at dawn give the impression of a distant chorus, the way trees on a savanna blend into a false forest a half mile away.

July 18, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Half-burp, half-grunt, this utterance of a mother deer to her playful fawns. Twin leaves flutter to the ground like wings of a green bird.

On the steep slope below my parents…

July 5, 2009 by Dave Bonta

On the steep slope below my parents’ house, a doe sweeps the deerflies from her twin fawns’ spotted backs with her long, rough tongue.

July 4, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Chipping sparrows feed a fledgling in the grass next to the wall, making much too much noise—even a deer would nosh on such a fine morsel.

July 2, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Sitting in great discomfort due to a sprained back, I regard a deer-stripped black raspberry cane, naked except for its thorns.

June 26, 2021June 26, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Bright sunshine after a night of thunderstorms. Four deer—two does and two fawns—run through the steaming woods.

June 22, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Soft applause from the road bank: a doe’s ears flapping as she shakes her head to chase away the flies.

May 15, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Sun through fog. Animals emerge and vanish like actors in a play, bringing their cries and silences: goldfinches, a raven, a pair of deer.

May 6, 2009 by Dave Bonta

The gray winter pelts of two grazing deer are just beginning to fray. The fog withdraws into the woods and the webs of grass spiders.

April 17, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Rattle and rasp from a hole in the eaves where the starlings are moving in. A pair of ravens low over the ridge. The sun’s blazing nest.

March 31, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Sunny and cold. My mother starts up the trail into the woods with her pant-legs tucked into her socks against the plague of deer ticks.

March 24, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Another cold, clear morning, with just enough wind to keep my sunlit breath from blocking my view. A killdeer calls from high overhead.

March 16, 2016March 18, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Bluebird, white-throated sparrow, a starling’s liquid note, and high overhead, a killdeer: the sky must be blue above the fog.