New poem: Deer

We were on a road between two towns and a sign

came up by the side of the road. `It was a picture

of a stag. I’ve always understood that this means

that as you’re driving along a stag could jump out

on to the road. You could hit a stag. Or a stag could

hit you. And maybe the stag would be with other

deer. They could all hit your car. First the stag would

hit it - voom. And then the others - voom voom voom.

We looked into the woods to see if we could see

any. It was raining, so we reckoned that they would

be sheltering under the trees. Or lying under the

bracken. It was autumn so everything was turning

yellow, brown and dark green. If the stag and deer

were in there, they’d be hard to see. If they came

out and did that voom voom voom thing, you wouldn’t

get much notice. In between the woods, there were

open parts, clearings. There was gorse. Again, no

deer. A few cows. A few ponies. Then it was back to

woods: silver birch, oak, beech. As we came round a

corner, I looked again into the woods and saw

something which for a moment looked like a group

or herd of something - a bit grey, a bit brown. Not

deer though. It was jackets. They were hanging from

the trees. Maybe twenty or thirty of them. Damp from

the rain, so they were still. Not that there was any

wind.