This pond vibrates a gentle hum
while I approach, brimming with water.
Frogs grumble in agreement
while the sinking sun slips silently;
a wary deer riffs a dressage
through still-dry grass crackling
crunching last autumn’s detritus,
unsure of me—if I’m there or where
aware of herself and sure I am near.
She stomps a cautious passepied
punctuated by huffs and snorts,
in four-direction demonstration.
Frogs grown silent pick up again,
a softer, longer yeaahhhh.
Birds lull low in the dimming light.
A fish smacks one last snack.
I came to cry, but forgot.