No Sanctuary

The white-tailed doe ran through the woods alone.
She’d left her fawns in patch of thick, green fern.
Obeying her, the twins appeared as stone
and waited silently for her return.

A pack of coyotes
sneaked through the brush
where the young ones lay.
At the sound of their cries,

the doe rushed back to patch of thick, green fern
which now lay trampled on the still-warm ground.
Her nostrils flared and burned as though with fire.
The white-tailed doe ran through the woods alone.

© 2015 Freeda Baker Nichols