I round the corner by the junior high musing
that the
intersection will be crowded
in
the morning
when school resumes. A doe and faun
cross in
front of me, the faun
struggling
to keep the pace.
Aware of the sudden upswing of traffic
at that hour,
the doe has already
rung
the schoolyard bell.
Her deer-child studies the dangers
that
separate lush yards
from
the woods beyond.
She'll be safe now, and I will settle in
from my morning
swim to translate
Odysseus
meeting the Cyclops.
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