Vespertine Dance

Springing through the underbrush,
Barely grazing the fallen leaves of dwindling summer
That have skittered to the ground in the new falling of rain
The Doe dances
In the bands of evening light
That fracture the soft, vespertine shadows of the forest

On sylphlike legs which buck and skip
With the energy of a wild spirit, set free in the wind,
And the grace of a maple seed, reeling earthwards
She whips through the rough grass,
Fierce and free.

No bullet will remove the triumphant grace
With which the doe danced, that late summers eve,
For, forever printed in the rings of the tree
Will be that moment of exhilaration and pure joy
Which lit up the sleepy forest
More than the dappled light of yesterday
Ever could

One day, I hope to dance
As that doe did
In the bands of evening light
That fracture the soft, vespertine shadows of the forest