Seeds flew into our field-soil, meadowed
themselves, years ago, by our failing wall––
a common pile of unearthed stones.
Now every May or June the shrubs whiten
into blooms the size of infant snowflakes.
I believe in their tart vitamin. Even so, I’ve never
fingered or chewed one blue one in July.
Low bushed, they fruit full of calories
for the white-tails. Secretive by day,
the mammals embolden by dark.
Housedogs, asleep on the couch, won’t bark
while does of these riverwoods scavenge to feed
fawns in the un-hunted hours. Bless all the uncounted,
devoured before daylight. Once, I doubted deer
could swim––then caught a family crossing at dawn:
buck, doe and offspring galloped in current, shore to shore,
to arrive in my presence and bolt. They keep startling me.
I trespassed on nativity. A fawn, born June, on ground
where I stand, was delivered feet first, head tucked
into forelegs. A menace attends every birth. Our dogs
were unleashed. Terror torn, the doe sprinted
behind a scrim of pine. Kindly, the yellow lab licked
the upright newborn. I dragged the dogs away––too late.
A new mother learns harm will come.
December, in drab light, this straw-stricken meadow
is seeded with deer pellets. I pinch through prickers,
wet in the weary grass. Weighted onto my ribs,
face first, grandson, you’re awake on my breast.
Soon, you’ll bulk heavy, there’s gravity––run.
Chase the white-tails into the woods with the dogs.
It was I, at your birth, cut your cord. Your mother
cradled you. Every earth cycle, before Solstice,
daylight in December cuts short.
I carry you to the only spot—a glow
by the broken wall. Where, ovate and irregular,
leaves of wild blueberry crimson their canes.
This poem first appeared in Lily Poetry Review (2021).
—
Kelly DuMar is a poet, playwright and workshop facilitator from Boston. She’s author of four poetry collections, including jinx and heavenly calling, published by Lily Poetry Review Books. Her poems and images are published in Bellevue Literary Review, Tupelo Quarterly, Thrush, Flock and more. Kelly facilitates expressive arts support groups for psychologists and therapists working in war zones. She produces the Featured Open Mic for the Journal of Expressive Writing. Reach her at kellydumar.com
