I mourn for skunks.

The squashed, flattened masses
***** mashed, their stripes scattered
Matted  masks disguising unseeing eyes
Through how many fields have they run?
Once sweet babies, small noses, downlike fur
fleeing to their final place from green leafed bowers in a terrible act of asphalt bait n' switch

Let us all grieve the sacrifice which,
Unto the motor gods
Has been served.

I am at the age
I've always craved
and like a dog
chasing a deer
I don't know what to do
now that I'm here.

You smile like a wolf about to ****.
Your cruel, sharpened fangs barred in spite.
Your voice was gold, your white cuspids alight.
You smile at your prey; we deer stand still.

I know the smile shall end where it will.
I know it never reaches to your eyes
And I know, like one bitten once or twice,
That the wolf closes its eyes to ****.

The wolf leans in too close, panic sets in
Stumbling through apologetic speech in
An effort to get somewhere else, again...

The deer springs into action, can't win
For wolves hunt in packs, the wingman swoops in
Now trapped by foes unbeatable, I'm slain.

Snapping twigs like snapping bones
A silent silence that silences all
Almost unreal, almost too still
A different planet, maybe.
But as she drew nearer
Wide-eyed and weary
Early on this bitter morn
She was alone once more.
Fawn-less now, unattended
Even stag, if you will
Yearning for her child still
But hey, a wolf’s gotta eat.
Another meal for another beast
She walks along, breaking bones
Scenery just as grey as the sky
A shiny lense catches her wide eye.
It witnessed every last detail
Every gruesome cry and wail
Will they enjoy this tragedy?
She doubts it.
As of late, the hunting ended
But she hopes they will learn
That after she’s hunted by guns
She’s hunted by fangs.

Waiting    listening    watching -
senses strain against
the darkness.

Dark gives way to gray
enough to see
deceptive shadows.

The woods stir slowly.
Chickadees speak, still sleepy.
Leaves rustle in the distance

alerting vigilant ears and eyes; inciting hope.
Scanning the ridge and shooting lanes, my eyes - then ears -
lock on rummaging squirrels.  

Cold hands slip back into pockets;
it tries to snow.
Ravens complain        back        and        forth.

Stillness -
then the rise of wind
through the trees.

Around eleven I walk to Dad’s stand.
Quiet talk and hot soup -
no deer.

The afternoon is spent, back against a Maple, with cautious thoughts comfortable enough to creep forward and linger in the peace of the woods.

I. The prettiest thing I've ever done was hold someone while they cried. This was the most beautiful I've ever looked. She shook like a rabbit, watching cars whir by on the roadside.

II. I've fallen in love with strangers. I've fallen in love with familiar faces, and then fell out of love when I realized they were still strangers.

III. I had a dream my father hated me. I woke up, and I couldn't look at him in the eyes during dinner.

IV. I watched a deer cross the road today, her head hung low in the thick morning mist. I called her Daisy, and Daisy ran into the graph paper patterned trees of the forest. She disappeared as the fog closed in, dashing into the blank scene in front of me, the painted canvas of her back running across the page like a blur of everything I love about living.

i'm the man drinking coffee alone at the diner who kindly asks you for the time. you reply but you don't even look at me in my eyes.
i'm the lone deer you hit while driving at 3am. you don't even stop the car. you even forgot about it the next day.
i'm the homeless cat you stopped feeding at night. i still meow at your doorstep. you just ignore it.

I choose
not to step out
in front of the
oncoming truck
like some flighty
whitetail deer
beside a lonely highway
flat-lining through the Badlands

I hold the perimeter
respect the irrevocable
delineations of love
honor the ground
that roots
evergreen
place my trust
in lapis blue