The Fawn

On the roadside
in the grass
a fawn lies still.
Buttercups kiss her soft eyes
with sparkle diminished,
and the insects whirr in the meadows.
They march upon her fallen body
torn near in two.
Sun spears black, narrow slits glow crimson
as one half of her ribcage surrenders to the sky
like a bird’s wing,
Or Oriental fan.

Reviews

[Kat Mandu]

Ooh, I love the description :) A little bit too literal for my liking- as a poem, I mean. It's great compared to my early stuff though. Weirdly enough, the first poems I wrote were all about animals. Although mine were more violent and badly written than yours! Keep up the good work