Poetry
The Deer
A Poem
i hit a deer today
a small one with spots on his back.
i saw him in the night,
through headlights and slowed
he pranced away until i moved again-
surely moving through light,
toward the sight of his mother.
a street ahead i pulled over,
his body was too small to make a dent
but i saw his fur on the metal,
where he had been torn.
i drove back to see him, hiding in brush-
sitting and staring, looking longingly-
at nothing in particular.
he didn’t seem to feel broken at all.
so i left him; to sit in the tall grass and wait.
i felt he wasn’t hurt too badly.
i wondered if he had run off,
to find his mother
but i heard a shot later that night-
it rang in my ear a little louder while lightless.
he was gone by morning.
Here’s a wonderful poem by Smita Roy Trivedi:
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