From ‘He Mourns for the Change That Has Come Upon Him and Longs for the End of the World’
‘Do you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns?’—W.B. Yeats
white-tail doe
her bent neck over crabgrass
at sunset
Where have all your fawns gone?
Why do you graze alone?
for Jane Dougherty’s A Month With Yeats: Day Sixteen
Frank J. Tassone 
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