This One Did Not Die On Main (Poem)

the pavement slick, darkened by fog and rain

leaking like oil from a damaged sky

firmament punctured by some sharp wing-tip

a bird careless as it wheels in surveying flight

an unwise deer skids into a flail

then falls into an ungainly heap of legs

lives to right itself and flee

into more hospitable grass, glistening blades

still soaked by dawn’s brief shine of light

there to pause for one considering glance

before disappearing into the mercy of distant trees