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  • Deer

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    Kirin Malik
    181 views1 page
    The poem describes deer that come out at night and sit under trees in the author's yard like a family photograph. When the headlights shine on them, their eyes turn green. They dart away quickly, their tails held high like six white arrows pointing at the sky, disappearing into the night too fast to say goodbye. Though they move swiftly, the deer will return later to the same place. The lights inside go off, allowing the deer to come out from where they hide during the day.

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    “Deer”

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    The poem describes deer that come out at night and sit under trees in the author's yard like a family photograph. When the headlights shine on them, their eyes turn green. They dart away quickly, their tails held high like six white arrows pointing at the sky, disappearing into the night too fast to say goodbye. Though they move swiftly, the deer will return later to the same place. The lights inside go off, allowing the deer to come out from where they hide during the day.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    181 views1 page

    Deer

    Uploaded by

    Kirin Malik
    The poem describes deer that come out at night and sit under trees in the author's yard like a family photograph. When the headlights shine on them, their eyes turn green. They dart away quickly, their tails held high like six white arrows pointing at the sky, disappearing into the night too fast to say goodbye. Though they move swiftly, the deer will return later to the same place. The lights inside go off, allowing the deer to come out from where they hide during the day.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    of 1

    “Deer” 

     
    The headlights turn their dark eyes 
    green. 
    We see them sitting under trees 
    At night, in my yard, like a photo of a 
    family. 
    Then they dart away, their tails held 
    high, 
    Six white arrows point at the sky. 
    We don’t even get to say good-bye. 
    Into the night they disappear, 
    And though they move as quick as spears 
    A little later they’ll be back here. 
    Our lights go off, we’re warm inside, 
    They come out then, from where they 
    hide. 
    Their secret place is a point of pride. 
    Calm as ponds, they never fight, 
    They stand and leave when the sky gets 
    bright. 
    But the question never sat quite right- 
    Where do they go when it gets light? 
     

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