Amid pale green milkweed, wild clover, a rotted deer curled, shaglike, after a winter so cold the trees split open. I think she couldn't keep up with the others (they had no place to go) and her food, frozen grass and twigs, wouldn't carry her weight. Now from bony sockets, she stares out on this cruel luxuriance. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BRAVE OLD OAK by HENRY FOTHERGILL CHORLEY DREAM SONG: 2 by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO THE NIGHTINGALE by ANNE FINCH SONNETS TO LAURA IN LIFE: 109 by PETRARCH ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE by VALERY YAKOVLEVICH BRYUSOV OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 10. TROCHAIC VERSE: THE SIXTH EPIGRAM by THOMAS CAMPION |