Your first winter, Little Buck
Did your Mother tell you?
The cold, I mean, the ice, the wind?
I am part of that world.
God made me too.
There are things my Mother didn’t tell me.
You look at me in my warm house
And I see a baby in the snow.
But your coat is thick and if God did this it must be good.
When the snow is deep
Joy, from my fingers.
I sow it onto fresh snow fields.
You jump away,
Though I speak kindly and you know my voice.
For days and days I see you from my window,
Nap time in sunny white fields.
Legs tucked under, chewing.
Grace of a snowed-in world.
Look, little Buck,
Dark patches are growing under aspen and pine,
Circle meets circle.
Then you are gone,
Racing warmer winds.
You will lead the herd one day, little Buck
A part of you knows it.
I know things too.
A part of you is my corn.
You are not mine.
But my corn runs with you.
Editor’s note: This poem won first place in the first-ever poetry contest hosted by the Eagle Nest Bear Benefit in June 2015. The Eagle Nest Bear Benefit is held to raise funds in support of the non-profit New Mexico Wildlife Center in Española, New Mexico.