local_library Fawn Ghazal

by C. J. Sage

Published in Issue No. 54 ~ November, 2001

Inside a snowy blanket which put the trees to sleep, I heard a

Out past the window’s ice coat in the morning, I found a sleeping

There are men in yellow kitchens watching hands of brown-eyed

while men in orange jackets dream in secret, of capturing a fawn.

When I was younger I was taught, but have forgotten, sweet

When I am older I will learn, in necessity, the light-footedness


Someone left a lily on my doorstep, eggshell white with specked

the card of introduction said the flower’s name was Fawn.

Sages wonder if it’s possible for men to turn to animals.

I wonder if they’ve pondered the agility of fawns.

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C. J. Sage serves as Managing Editor of Disquieting Muses.  Her poems appear most recently in The Threepenny Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, The Seattle Review, and Light Quarterly.  Her book of poems, Let's Not Sleep, is forthcoming in January 2002.