Three small moments sit side by side here, and the poem lets them quietly echo one another. First, small birds startle up into bare branches. Then a phone call brings news that someone the speaker knows has had another breakdown. The word "another" suggests this isn't the first time, and that the news is sad but not entirely surprising. Finally, the speaker's voice sends six deer into alarm, their tails raised, ready to bolt.
The poem never says how the speaker feels, which is part of its power. The mood is hushed, watchful, and a little sorrowful. Sudden flight appears in nature and in human life alike: birds scatter, a mind gives way, deer prepare to run. The title, "Grand jeté," a ballet leap, makes the deer's fear look like grace. That comparison hints at something tender, as if fragility and beauty can't be separated. The speaker also seems slightly guilty, having frightened the deer just by speaking.