as i became aware of my surroundings, i noticed her. a small doe, still with her baby spots, laid dead in the stream. her legs were contorted in a way that was unnatural. she had fallen, slipped, misstepped, and landed here in the brook. suffering, no doubt, until her last rattling breath.
i was in awe of the innocence of her, the smallness, the child like size of her.
she was wounded. dead. alone. nobody was there to help her. her mother long gone, knowing the finalness of her baby’s death; moving on to greener woods where she might succesfully raise another fawn. giving up on what was once her most guarded and treasured possession.
the doe’s eyes were still open. her long lashes, which in life, no doubt, were beautiful, now uselessly stood guard to the emptiness of her lifeless stare.
the doe — 110714