Acrostic Love Poem

As mentioned in Pseudonyms, and again in Six Songs of the Buffalo, during a love affair many years ago it amused the lady and me to assume artiodactylic personae: I was a buffalo, she was a doe.  This love poem was written for her in Milan in October 1993.  It is reprinted here with the permission of the lady, who has graciously allowed the acrostic feature to reveal her name.

Acrostic Love Poem

Just as the sky begins to lighten, notice:
A doe and a buffalo lie asleep together.
Now he turns, and she turns too, toward him
In a familiar, reassuring movement.
Side by side they breathe, asleep.

Morning comes.  They stir, press close, and whisper.
After, they rise and graze in separate meadows;
Returning, when the sky is dark, to nuzzle
Again in their bower of leaves and moss.