By Rebecca L. Morrison
A starchild, jailed,
and forth has she risen, alert,
on the legs of a groggy once-fawn,
and confident, too.
He sways like a
sunbeam that grays at the temples,
silhouetted ever-gently by darks.
Click, and clack, and creak;
and like clockwork, she knows -
a certain separation from
doe and buck.