an on-line poetry magazine
for the 21st century
A chipmunk scurrying across the road
as I passed on my bicycle speeding,
turned on a dime in the opposite direction
the precise moment our paths crossed,
met with my spinning wheel, its fragile
soft form run over in a fraction of a second,
a fatal error in calculation, now left inert
to return to earth, only we were on asphalt.
I carried this small death with me through
the day into the next, I carry it still.
It happened so fast a blink of an eye, a cough,
a sneeze, and I might not have noticed
a life ended, tragically, senselessly, for no
particular reason, it just did.
How could its kin know it could not return?
Perhaps they knew somehow and I don’t
need to carry that too. I’d like to believe it lived
in the moment, had no dreams or plans
for its future, no one depended onit to carry through
on anything – sustenance, protection or the like.
I wanted to rewind the tape, begin my trip
a second later or take another road home.
I could have driven slower, had the time to swerve,
avoid what needn’t have happened.