To The Fawn I See In a Field, Alone

I knew you were dead
the moment I saw you
unsteady on your long
bendy legs.
There is no Mama in sight
only the industrial lawn mower
herding you back into the shadows.
I imagine finding your body
after a day or two
with your button nose
and button eyes.
Let me tell you, you are not alone.
There are millions
of creatures of every size
newly dead in the world
or on the edge of death.
Your cuteness will not save you.
I am old.
What I have learned in 65 years
is not saving me.