One night in the park a yearling doe
was trotting sideways through early snow
over still green grass
dancing and pausing, dancing and pausing
like a baby Paso Fino testing new ground
She held her head upright as she played
around the fringes of the headlights
where cars slowed down to watch
I stopped and rolled down the windows
The air was cold on the surface but warm underneath
and I have to tell you everything
is a kind of random perfection
waiting for a chance to break open
into its own brightest moment
wild with joy
Jon Lavieri holds an MFA from Western Michigan University. His poems have appeared in Anacapa Review, New York Quarterly, unlost, Stone Poetry Quarterly, Naugatuck River Review and elsewhere. He lives in Rhode Island and teaches English and writing to immigrants and refugees.
