[from Mary Oliver's The Truro Bear and Other Adventures: Poems and Essays, Beacon Press, 2008]
There was the body of the fawn, in the leaves,
under the tall oaks.
There was the face, the succulent mouth,
the pink extruded tongue.
There were the eyes.
There was its dark dress, half pulled off.
There were its little hooves.
There was the smell of change, which was
There was my dog's nose, reading the silence
like a book.
No one spoke, not the Creator, not the Preserver,
not the Destroyer.
There was the sound of wind in the leaves,
in the tall oaks.
There was the terrible excitement
of the flies.
The Truro Bear and Other Adventures: Poems and Essays