By RIverdave Owen

February 2013


Two white-tailed deer stood on a hill

Above the new suburb

About each house were gardens of

Both vegetable and herb.


Where children played on grassy lawn

Well trimmed and evergreen 

With pet dog as defender of          

That great suburban dream.  


Back on the hill a fawn remarked

How pleasant is this view

Let's move in for a closer look

And have ourselves a chew.


The mother doe said with alarm

It's not the way it seems

No invitation to this feast

We're held in low esteem.


By those who've come and settled on

This land that's been our home

These humans now consider us 

A nuisance where we roam.


And so they want to skewer us 

Right in their own backyard

With urban archers showing no

Indigenous regard.


So what's to be the remedy

The fawn asked with a frown

What legacy will humans leave    

For this ol' Durham town?


A place of grim efficiency

That's quick to extirpate

Or one of deep humility

With wIldlife to relate?


The doe then spoke her litany

Of common sense advice

For those who care to live in peace

Resolved to pay the price.


Let gardens have an eight foot fence

To keep my yearlings out

And let them slow their speeding car

As they commute their route.


Some eucalyptus oil applied

On legs would help protect

From tics and chiggers lying low

That commonly infect. 


And last but not the least of all

Let humans take a chance 

Embrace coyotes in their midst

To dance that ancient dance … 

Photo by RIverdave:  albino fawn photographed from Riverdave's screened in back porch