A Winter Muse

I see a deer. Suddenly. It runs from the forest edge on to the asphalt. The hooves slip. Just a bit. Have you ever seen a deer fall. Two jumps. And 20 feet of road: cleared.
She runs into the snow covered field on the other side. There are still stumped corn stalks staring through the flakes. The deer's breath make small clouds as she runs to the forest line.
Brown field. Patch of green. Harrowed rows.
Then gone.
No trace. No breath. No motion.
The still trees consumed that distant figure.