Michele Wolf: “Expecting Snow”

Against a sky and lake bleached icy gray, the solid
Surface edged with snow and spindly bones 
Of leafless trees, four silhouettes, a single file 
Of ash-brown deer—two adults, two adolescents—
Halt their slow-mo synchrony of steps 
At the middle of the lake, its top layer hardened 
To host weightlessness, not illusion on elegant legs.        

Beauty is no help. The starving deer, weary of feeding 
On bark and road salt, resume their lake-top trek.       

From spring through fall, the white-tailed locals feast
On roses, carry ticks. One after another, they meet 
Your eyes, and yet they leap onto the road—
At the same bend where that drunk teen driver
Bashed the fence, then flipped. Nature
Holds you. When it drifts, it breaks your heart.