The Call

A deer bounds down a quiet street lined

 with quaint pastel homes, daintily laced 

with white trim and decorated shutters, 

evenly spaced between picket fences

The wild forest

with its untamed branches and vivid vegetation 

whispers from behind, beckoning

to its wandering resident

as if to say,

don’t be long.

The deer,

with long, bony antlers and dark, keen 

      eyes pauses, watching.

      Watching you

who attempts to hide, only

partially covered by thin satin drapes

But black eyes meet blue,

and you stare back as

its deep, discerning eyes promise secrets untold if you dare to follow

You do not heed the call.

               Not yet.