One Being
To Carol Fabric
janine canan
Out of the live oak forest
a doe steps onto the thick green lawn,
stomping her foot.
My old wolf-dog lowers her nose
on the wood porch, watching.
Wide-eyed and -eared the doe approaches.
Crow caws at every step.
Squirrel races down a slender branch;
Mosquito circles, buzzing.
The whole hill rattles with crickets.
And cars below roar like the ocean
as she gazes into me, and I into her -- at One Being.
