Daybreak Curative

by Jim Farfaglia

Daybreak Curative

 

The six of them wander into my yard,

tender noses to the early-spring grass,

searching for the sustenance

our deep winter has denied them.

 

Different sizes, different shades of brown,

and one, I notice, favoring a front leg;

hoof grazing ground with each labored step.

Wounded.

 

From one of winter’s traps?

From some aspiring hunter?

From the catchall of life’s sorrows?

 

When the others move on, she stays;

something in this space healing her.

I watch, feeling her warm my winter-heart…

then, taking a tender step,

 

I start the foraging of my day.

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