Now, on this new page, A new optimism groans into place. The leaves, like extras One is beginning to know by name, Sigh and lift perceptibly. A doe steps into the clearing and looks toward the house -- Just checking -- then turns and highsteps With exaggerated precision, flight held in, Back to cover. Two hunters, Trespassing but willing to claim They are lost, mistaken, sorry, Simmer in the throaty idle of their pickup, Gazing down into a deep draw. They pull away slowly. They'll be back. The day itself is good. Whatever happens in the day, The day itself is good. A breeze tensely riffles the pond, Erasing the pond's attempt at representation Of treetops and sky -- try again. It keeps doing that. A jet goes over and you rise to build a fire. As if the jet were a signal. One hunter says good day, though, Even if we don't get anything. Nice weather. And the deer step out of the woods As if drawn by a magnet. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN I WROTE A LITTLE by HAYDEN CARRUTH LET ME NOT LOSES MY DREAM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON UTOPIA by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOHN CABANIS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HER EYES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |