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Wednesday, January 26, 2011

The Buck in the Snow


The Buck in the Snow

White sky, over the hemlocks bowed with snow,
Saw you not at the beginning of evening the antlered buck and his doe
Standing in the apple-orchard? I saw them. I saw them suddenly go,
Tails up, with long leaps lovely and slow,
Over the stone-wall into the wood of hemlocks bowed with snow.

Now he lies here, his wild blood scalding the snow.

How strange a thing is death, bringing to his knees, bringing to his antlers
The buck in the snow.
How strange a thing--a mile away by now, it may be,
Under the heavy hemlocks that as the moments pass
Shift their loads a little, letting fall a feather of snow--
Life, looking out attentive from the eyes of the doe.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

11 comments:

  1. Thank you Neva and Jonie! :)

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  2. Thanks Barbara. Whether I look out my window or at the picture above, I see the same scenery. The poetry isn't too bad either! :-0)

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  3. Hi Jim! I envy your window views then-- all dry/brown/dusty/ugly here!!
    Glad you like the poem, too! ;)

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  4. wow, love this poem and image. i hate it when i hear someone say they go deer hunting, i cringe.

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  5. Thank you, Lorilynn! I can condone deer hunting for putting food on the table, especially in these trying times, but to do it just for sport is so wrong!

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  6. beautiful pic, living in wisconsin i see alot of these running about, some have even landed on the hood of my car! nice poem to go with it

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  7. Yolo, I know just what you mean! When I lived in the woods in Arkansas, they were everywhere and several landed on cars many times over those years! Thank you for stopping by! :)

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  8. That's an absolutely gorgeous image, Barbara!

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  9. Thank you so much Terry/Montucky! :)

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