🔵 By Christopher S. De Roberts. Photo by lauragrafie.
As the dead of night turns to dawn
I look out my window across the lawn
I see what seems to be a fawn standing all alone
It’s not in any hurry
So there’s no need to worry
For if it sees trouble it will surely scurry
As it grazes upon the grass
I hope this will forever last
As the sun rises into the sky
The fawn searches for a place to lie
As it drifts off to sleep ever so deep
It looks nothing more than a fluffy heap.