Two Alone


I wait in the fading light
faint breeze, restive leaves
fallen and brown.
He will come
I tell myself
and then — Please —
to no one there.
But it is cold dusk now
and I shiver,
coat pulled tight,
Alone.

A doe steps from the shadows
deep within the scrub
behind the barn.
She limps
a front leg broken, twisted,
seeking acorns on the ground.
Seeing me, she pauses
not afraid, cautious,
questioning.

Our eyes meet
and know.

She moves on,
feeding from the earth,
Alone.

The barn still looms dark and empty,
and I stand
to go.
 
By Bahiya Carter