In deer season

Fog until 9 a.m. Sitting in their trees, the hunters hear every drip.

A silent crow flies past, something dangling from its beak.

Water beads on the coiled tendrils of wild grapes.

Unmistakable, the sound of hooves on wet leaves — until it stops.

The fog thins. A pair of does stand frozen, raising & lowering the white alarms of their tails.