Fawn Gambol At Knocksink Wood.

It is said that deer came to Ireland over
ten thousand years ago, the ice age. Now
confined to woods, like people to their homes snowbound,
I see from my kitchen window on Church Hill,
three fawns gambolling in the snowy woods by the river.
Picturesque, and Bambi- like they gambol. Searching
leaves, or moss, or growth, snow covered.
Gambolling, such a nice word, evocative,
not like humans gambling their resource.
It is also said that humans kill for power,
and dominance, and ego most of all.
But animals, only to protect their young?
Gambolling freely near the river for some water.

Three chesnut colored fawns,
in search of hazel, like the poets hazel wand.
The magical property, like poetry, a thousand
years ago, like deer, and stag and fawns,
gambol freely, of a type, in Knocksink Wood
at Enniskerry.
The hazel tree brings gambolling, skipping,
on the white carpet path. Like humans, they are free
within the limitation of their freedom to gambol.