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Tableau, a poem by Roger Pfingston








  New Year’s Eve, 2020

Emerging snow-blurred out 

of the woods, the doe at dusk

fulfills our unspoken wish, 

though still limping, moving

ever closer to stare at the two

of us having dinner lit by a new

ceiling light, the globe’s hue

dialed to a soft sepia, the gift

of a handyman friend 

who’d asked if we might 

prefer degrees of brightness

after four decades of on/off.

With a centerpiece of lilies,           

the table is a simple choice 

of fish and rice, bread

and wine, glasses raised

to the pending year, 

the doe, for now, still there.

Roger Pfingston has poems in recent issues of Sheila-Na-Gig, Dash, Hamilton Stone Review, Tipton Poetry Journal, Innisfree Poetry Journal, and Valparaiso Poetry Review. His chapbook, What’s Given, is available from Kattywompus Press.