March Snow

Ours were the only footprints, My love,

In the soft falling March snow.

She trotted forward - fearlessly;

Nose to the ground -

Soft velvet ears close behind.

With her tail a flagrant flag

Beating her time.

I followed submissively

Joined...

Together by one cord...

Placental.

We walked through the forest

And wondered at the silence.

We were not alone

But joined by a wooded throng.

Evergreens...

Clad in Aran jumpers

Leaned in solicitously

As though to whisper secrets

As we brushed past.

Bare deciduous natives...

Stretched out their naked limbs

Piled high with icing sugar

To tempt us with sweet treats.

Squat, dense, shrubs...

Adorned only with mounds of popcorn

Shivered...

Waiting patiently for their Springtime embellishments.

But these grove inhabitants did not breathe...

Unlike the timid girl we spied in a clearing.

Her coat drab:

Her wet nose twitching;

Her eyes huge and black like pools of obsidian.

She did not startle but froze to watch us.

The snow continued to drift down gently,

Large, fluffy skeins of ice landed on her ears and back,

But she did not move

As we all stood in silent, observational triangulation.

Was it just a moment -

That felt like time itself extended between us?

And that we broke as we turned for home,

Jameela and I.

And the doe bent her elegant neck

To recommence her search for frozen morsels to fill her visible bones.

Jameela ran now,

Racing for home.

Back to the hearth we had left;

The hungry fire that welcomed us with warm embrace

As I shut the door and locked the icy darkness

And our woodland neighbours out.