The Leap

When a deer jumps, it jumps in slow motion,

Hung up in the air too long for gravity –

Who, as we know, is jealous of his claims –

Not to resent this flouting of his rules.

For a heartbeat, it’s a mere deer ornament,

Adorning whatever unfelled Christmas tree

You’re seeing in the background; there are more

To choose from than your house could ever need.

Then front legs fall, and rear legs follow,

The landing just a heavy afterthought,

And once again the deer is prey to all

The shocks and predators a meek soul fears;

But in your memory she’ll always be

Extended, leaping, among frozen boughs –

The one thing that will never need to fall,

To die, to change, or even touch the ground.