View From The Carriage House Lawn

A mother doe steps from forest edge with hesitation,
then cautiously strides the meadow,
with ears and eyes searching in a vigilant defend;
she is guarding and teaching twin fawns,
yet protected by the wood,
awaiting the all-clear signal she will send...

The mother navigates the field,
darts across the highway, scrambles up the bank,
posts rigid for a final scan;
rotates her head to the rear,
signaling it is time to proceed with caution,
to the grove of apple trees and fallen fruit that dots the land...

first one fawn makes the trek with an uneventful crossing,
then the second bolts into evening light,
in a trot the three reach the base of the apple tree;
each selects their morsel, chewing with obvious satisfaction,
their stomachs will be full for the night,
a hidden silent observer, I am privileged at what I see...

The doe is mindful, on human turf they forage,
she must be ever alert and always aware;
she frequently diverts from the meal, scanning the surrounding,
the fawns, her attentive demeanor seem to share...

Suddenly something alerts and concerns the doe,
with tail up and flagging, she runs for forest cover, taking the lead;
they vanish in the dark of forest protection,
to await the next opportunity to openly feed...

A movement, a sound, a scent in the breeze,
what perception generated fear?
maybe it was but a lesson to give technique to offspring,
a lesson passed ahead, year after year.