She seems to be a slightly unsettled
Miracle-magic piece of dust,
Poised in best porpoise fashion
Above the shimmering desert heat.
Elusive to extremes,
Inexhaustible in her evasions,
She disappears with the sudden snap
Or crack of tree branch, finger joint.
Surfacing in static air,
Flung before a flight of deer—
At first touch of greenfield grass
She springs, motion-bound.
©2016 Michael Fraley
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