The funeral home on the way downtown
from the, quote, commercial, end-quote, part of town
has featured for as many decades as I can remember
a baker’s dozen of model deer
easing themselves out of the dark pines
that huddle around forgotten paths and monuments.
Eyes naturally check this space
every time one passes by
and rejoices to see
a stray doe or fawn
nestled among the simulations.
The most remarkable part of this exchange
is the continued glee upon realizing
that one of the fakes
challenges the memory
of the same individuals mocking reality
that somehow prompt us to think
about the natural world 
more than the natural world itself. 
If deer can fake their presence so knowingly
as hundreds of people drive by unknowingly,
can we fake our own participation
in something as grand as life?
Otherwise we risk
darkening the pines on the forest path
until no one remains to see
our monuments and memories to them.