Beside the Waterfall

At dawn
the big dog--
Winston by name--
reached down

into the leaves--tulips and willows mostly--
beside the white
waterfall,
and dragged out,

into plain sight,
a fawn;

it was scarcely larger

than a rabbit

and, thankfully,
it was dead.

Winston

looked over the

delicate, spotted body and then

deftly
tackled
the beautiful flower-like head,

breaking it and
breaking it off and
swallowing it.

All the while this was happening

it was growing lighter.

When I called to him

Winston merely looked up.

Grizzled around the chin

and with kind eyes,

he, too, if you're willing

had a face
like a flower; and then the red sun

which had been raising all the while anyway,
broke

clear of the trees and dropped its wild, clawed light
over everything.

--Mary Oliver