On the Death of a Doe
Sean Guillemette
O
I
clings to hope bartering God-given marvels as love lay low.
II
Mother dear, your life endures in the fawn you leave, gasping for breath, in your
breath, like the wind of God, you breathed and loved with sweet tenderness.
Too soon the lesson is learned, for those shot through are always young.
No one is too old to live and no fawn is too young to learn love you left.
Love you gave, love he wants, love you leave, love that haunts, love he gives.
III
Trembling, in the dusk darkening meadow, alone is your weeping fawn.
Shivering, searching for you, and the memories lost of love.
In the dim darkness he struggles to recognize wherein the loss of love,
multiplies love, and your memory labors love forth from him.
Sun, through his salted eyes, peeps on horizons far lighting the truth and trail.
Only the darkening dusk births a glorious, golden dawn.
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