On the Eve of Christmas
Dec 25 2008


Something moved
to trigger the floodlights
on this pitch-black night,
illuminating the snow-banks
the gravel drive.
I see 2 small deer
back-lit by unforgiving light,
pawing at the snowy ground
heads down
working the road salt with their tongues.

They take no notice of me
looking-out
from my cheerful kitchen
here, on the eve of Christmas,
tucked away past the end of the road.
So this frozen tableau seems fantastical,
and me privileged
to witness something so beautiful
and rare.

Because in winter, deer are scarce,
hunkered-down deep in the forest
burning fat
breaking through crusted snow.
This is when old ones die,
yearlings fight to survive,
and salt is a prize
worth the risk of exposure.

Something is bubbling on the stove,
and when I turn back after just a moment
all is dark,
and the deer, departed.
And what I thought I saw
seems as improbable as reindeer,
on a well-earned pause
stopping-off to graze.