My blue shoes skidded against the pavement
as I broke at a dead stop.

Sweat dripping from my brow
and stinging my eyes,
I peered forward at the deer
standing there a hundred feet away
blocking my path, her head faced
the other way, looking at
God knows what, perhaps God
Himself.

I started to edge forward,
my tired feet flintstoning the bike.
I held my breath, but I could not
control my heart as it pounded harder
against my chest with each inch
I crept.

But I did not get close enough,
for a neglected chain on my precious bike
gracefully slit silence’s throat,
allowing its blood to contaminate
the air within.

The deer fled back to her home,
leaving me alone to ponder
what could have been.

And I know if only I’d had
the opportunity
to stroke my hand
along its mischievous fur,
that would have been
the greatest day
of my life,

even if
I lost my fingers
as a result.