In just three short lines, this poem catches a quiet moment in the woods. The afternoon is "green," which suggests shade, leaves, and a light that feels filtered and calm. Then a fawn appears in the scene, only to be "off again," already moving on. The speaker doesn't chase it or explain it. They simply notice.
The last line, "an art of being," is the heart of the poem. It seems to describe the fawn: it lives without effort or self-consciousness, and its darting, restless way of moving looks almost like a skill or a performance. It could also hint at how the speaker would like to live, simply present and attentive. The poem doesn't say so outright, which leaves room for the reader to decide.
The mood is hushed, gentle, and a little wistful. Everything is fleeting, like the fawn, and the poem is brief in the same way, as if it too might slip away if we looked too long.