Pain Killer

The sweetness, when it settles,
Is unalloyed forgiveness
Until placed in a context.

At dawn, three scruffy mule deer
You’ve known for more than a year
As neighborhood residents,

Browse just outside your window,
Just as the sweetness sinks in.
You’re fine with having context

For the mule deer, a story,
Nearly, to tell about them,
The mother with the collar,

The two year-old, last year’s fawn—
The mother has recovered
From last year’s leg injury.

The two-year old, to be sure,
Could have a fawn this winter,
And they’re all three bold as brass

In this town without hunters.
There. The three scruffy mule deer
Have been placed in a context,

But the sweetness before them
Is still only the sweetness
Unless you’ve forgotten it.