The Mountain Lion
A poem by Ada Limón
I watched the video clip over and over,
night vision cameras flickering her eyes
an unholy green, the way she looked
the six-foot fence up and down
like it was nothing but a speed bump,
and cleared the man-made border
in one impressive leap. A glance
over the shoulder, an annoyance,
an "as if you could keep me out, or
keep me in." I don't know what it
was that made me press replay and
replay. It wasn't fear, though I'd be
terrified if I was face to face with
her, or heard her prowling in the night,
it was just that I don't think I've
ever made anything look so easy. Never
looked behind me and grinned or
grimaced because nothing could stop
me. I like the idea of it though, felt
like a dream you could will into being:
See a fence? Jump it.