You wonder if dogs
ever breach this
gate in packs
maraud through tulip beds
scratch over brick paths

if white tailed deer
vault stone walls
nibble on succulents
or in a dry year
rhododendrons

you know moles
burrow under the mound
you've just nailed her to
noses twitching
pink like her

rabbits have mated here
a nervous shiver
she brushes off
wood chip mulch
doesn't say anything

you haven't been seen
you could come back
again but
you find yourself longing
for a field with crows