A Fold in the World
Three deer in a field
mean almost nothing;
scene from a window
cracked open for air.
Look at the sculpted legs
made that way
for leaping; the unforgettable eyes:
how they notice everything.
And never expect to be seen.
These deer in a field mean
almost nothing
and yet...today, you are
more still and even
still more delicate;
roaming in distances, reaching
farther and farther.
Those deer in a field mean almost
nothing.
But there they stand,
a crisp fold in the world,
where on one side
you are holding
my small fingers, and on
the other,
I am holding yours.