Voter

For two weeks we’ve walked this mountain trail, the dog and I,
through trees and over rocks to see the view,
the morning sun, the vista of the distant mountain range.
The dog, his interest closer to the ground
flushes turkeys into tree tops, woodcocks from their nests,
and sniffs for deer we know are here.
I’ve seen their hoof prints on the grass
and Hosta leaves chewed to their stems.

Only today, across a grassy glade, a deer.
Stands statue still, ears perked, looks at us, we at him.
I cannot tell which moves first, deer or dog
but in a flash the chase is on.
Off through the woods they both are gone.
Five minutes pass, maybe more.
The dog appears from in the trees, panting hard,
broad grin upon his face.

He seems to say, “Now I know why we have traveled far.
Spent two full days cooped in a car.
It’s for the pleasure of this race. I commend your choice.
Let’s come again, if my vote has a voice.”