A Deer in the Headlights
Oct 21 2006


A deer in the headlights
is not frozen.
She stands on the shoulder
exposed,
all furious motion
-- her brown eyes glistening
with liquid light,
her body rippling
muscles tight
under taut skin and tawny fur,
and one foot trembling
held-up in the graceful etiquette of flight.
Then her ears stiffen and her nostrils flare
sucking air
before she darts
uncoiling full-speed into the clear,
a blur in the high beams
so close,
we both smell the fear.

Except when that first step falters;
nimble feet
unaccustomed to asphalt.