Not Understanding

Today, if you were home, you'd hear the wild gees honking overhead; and you might see a pair of deer grazing where they have always fed. You used to scatter food about lest they go hungry in the cold, and gratefully they sought you out, their eyes all trust, and almost bold.

Today you are a world apart, and yet the deer come to the gate looking for you, the doe and hart, not understanding war and hate. Written during World War II.

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