Two Poems by Ariel Gordon

How to See Deer

Having spotted the tawny deer
in the managed forest of aspen clones,
we take three steps: boots
on snow. Boots on snow.

Boots on snow.
Birdsong. Rising out of re-introduced grasses
gone blonde in the sun, the doe is all weary ear
& ear & eye as we hop-step
another three strides: boots on snow.
Boots on snow.

Boots on snow. Birdsong. Our little herd
is ten feet off when she turns
& walks away, thick hips
& bow legs flashing
between trunks: hooves on snow.
Hooves on snow.

Hooves on snow. Twenty feet off,
the doe kicks at the ground, settles heavily
& disappears in the brush,
having decided we don’t exist:

Birdsong.

Chickadees: fee-bee
Redpolls: dreeee

***

Primipara

“A woman who is pregnant for the first time or who
has borne just one child.”
—Webster’s New World Dictionary

If I had had twins, I would have eaten one.

If I had had twins, I would have cracked
a beatific smile. Thanks,
but no. And primly given it/them back.

If I had had twins, I would have tucked
them under my arms like footballs or small perfect
hand-grenades aimed at my breasts: fuck.

If I had had twins, I would have kept mum.

Re-printed with permission of the publisher from Stowaways, by Ariel Gordon, Palimpsest Press, 2014.