Seven deer stand knee-deep in the blooming water, ears pivoting forward and back, mouths dripping duckweed, they reap the summer harvest.

No Poem Is the Only Poem. No Story Is the Only Story. It's Just One Planet. But There Are Many Stories.
Seven deer stand knee-deep in the blooming water, ears pivoting forward and back, mouths dripping duckweed, they reap the summer harvest.