Early Morning Walk

Still foggy
                   in the low-lying areas
and the landscape veiled
                             where the mist
thins
                     and dissipates.

I don’t see her at first— 

I stop    still my breath. 
And she emerges  
raises her delicate muzzle—

                  something  reddish pink
hangs from the corner.

She’s nibbling the flowers
the planted
flowers
while her fawns sleep, each
curled on a grave, sheltered by a stone.