Amid pale green milkweed, wild clover, a rotted deer curled, shaglike, after a winter so cold the trees split open. I think she couldn't keep up with the others (they had no place to go) and her food, frozen grass and twigs, wouldn't carry her weight. Now from bony sockets, she stares out on this cruel luxuriance. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE AND A QUESTION by ROBERT FROST SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 12. AT THE DRAPER'S by THOMAS HARDY SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 110 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ARMY CORRESPONDENT'S LAST RIDE; FIVE FORKS, APRIL 1, 1865 by GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND PSALM 119 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE ANSWER OF BOSTON by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. CHINA, A.D. 1900 by EDWARD CARPENTER |