My deer leap the roads by nocturnal headlights.
They are never safe in the suburbs
but love it here all the same.
Although the old tracks are gone
they make new deer trods
through plantations covering industrial debris.
They only show themselves when unexpected
by the slant of the moon, turning vivid
heads, ears huge and upright,
flowing dapples brown and white.
Their liquid eyes are always fearful.
They are not quite knowing and always in flight.
Amongst droppings ripe as blackberries
I squat and sniff their aroma,
rock back on my feet,
a huntress of traces and memories
craving flesh and blood,
meeting eye to eye.
*The fallow deer pictured are in Lydney Park. Seeing them has inspired me to look for the elusive deer in my local area.