Here’s my poem for December, inspired by our Word of the Month, REINDEER.
Baby Reindeer As she wobbles to her feet and focuses her eyes, the first things the newly born baby sees are legs, an unknowable number of legs, as the herd grazes around her. Her spindly four add little to the herd of 600,000. She has much to do before cold weather comes and the herd migrates for the winter. She has much mother’s milk to drink. She must grow, learn to eat grass and lichen, thicken her fur enough to survive killing nights of 60 below. Life is harsh, so far north. Baby reindeer knows nothing of deer that fly, magical elves. She eats, grows, stays with the herd, hangs onto life. It’s the only story she will ever know. (c) 2022 David L. Harrison