My Child,
After my death you’ll find another.
Not all mammals are so kind
But deer, oh deer,
They form families like people adopting any or all
Who need a living, prancing mother.

Dear One,
After my death if I may leave you young by way of a speeding, fleeting farm truck
Wait for me.
See the good man who carries my body.
Whimper in the tall wheat.
Crouch and cower from subsequent passing headlights.
Be careful.

But don’t lay down
And die young with me.
When you’re ready
Let dawn crack your sorrow
Let one sunbeam break open your hope.
Find our ancestral tree line, you know the one, and
Distant cousins will welcome you to their nest.

I promise, My Child,
you will always be loved —
if you try.

***

Context: Near one of my gardens in the earlier 2020s, there was a family of deer. A mama doe got hit by a car, and in the middle of the night while a man took away her body, her fawn watched. Like many gardeners in the area, I kept an eye out for the fawn. We weren't sure if she had survived. Fortunately, deer offer a sense of inner peace to this, in part, tortured world. A young family of one buck, two does (not really sure what the story was there), and one adolescent fawn adopted the dear one — and welcomed curious humans like me on their walks through the thistles at dusk.

Photos by Aidan Kleckner (@aidanmandude)