Prey

May 2, 2019, with a couple of phrases by Robert Mueller

Funny how, yesterday, seeing the Attorney General liehas led me, in a weird if sleepy rage,to spend almost an hour this morning,

watching an enormously pregnant whitetail doebrowse among the new spring leaves and grasses.I’d meant to focus my ire where it would prove useless—

a letter to one of my wholly owned corporate senators,the one who’ll take me fishing with himfor a contribution of fifteen thousand dollars.

Twin fawns, for sure, maybe triplets. I would liketo fully capture the context, nature, and substanceof her, how at ease she seems despite the fact

that I’m no more than a stone’s half-throw away.She watched me come out onto the deckand stopped her chewing until I was in my chair.

Now the pages of my notebook flutter in the breeze.I want to be clear. I do not want public confusionabout critical aspects: the way she is sleek

but also rotund, how she glistens with morning dew.Even here, among scattered American houseson a mountainside in Idaho, she is not safe,

nor will her fawns be safe when they are born.She is a prey animal, and predators still abound,although it is also true she has never been lied to.