witnesses to a fallen fawn

[cassander42]

six leaves fell since you died.
yellow and brown and red,
they rest on your soft, golden fur
like discarded pieces of paper,
crisp and undisturbed -
no breath fills your lungs,
no heartbeat murmurs beneath your skin.

but your eyes are open, dark and deep,
and i can smell the life on you,
like some kind of wet, shaggy dog,
but wild and feral, tossed together by the wind
with hints of soil and moss and decaying leaves.

the flies, however, smell death.
shimmering in iridescent green,
they buzz about you
and crawl upon your youthful hide.

a daddy long-legs climbs up your snout,
walks over your eye,
just past your furry nub of an antler,
and then continues back down into the leaf litter.

will i, one day, suffer a similar fate?
lying lifeless, as the autumn leaves
slowly fall upon me?
who will be my witnesses?
and what will they think of me?

(© 2012 Cassander)