The green evergreens

swaying in the wind, full of snow.

My mom and I, unable to see anything,

but the herd of deer.

Standing and Observing 

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The herd clumped together,

as if they were penguins,

alert as a dog watching squirrels running through the terrain,

quick to scurry or flee away from danger.

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Their brown hair

beautiful, as if they were wrapped in a blanket.

Keeping them warm, as they stand in the frigid wind.

As we take for granted the warm heat of the house.

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These white tailed deer

all are similar in the same way.

Each and every move my mom and I make,

the herd returns the stare back.

Still as if they were stuck in cement.

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The slightest crunch of a branch,

or the ferocious howl of a wandering wolf,

white tails start to prancing through the tall grass.

Which will be the last sight before they vanish.

Sadly knowing hunting season is soon to come.

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