by John Grey.
Cars in both directions stop.
All drivers share the same helplessness.
A deep ditch stands guard on both sides.
There’s no getting around the corpse.
There are not enough of us to move the thing.
A few lean over the unfortunate beast.
Some turn their heads out of respect
One suggests a call to the nearest town.
The creature’s eyes are wide open.
Even in death, it takes man’s measure.
“You are angry, You are frustrated.
You are sorrowful. You are weak of stomach.”
Reinforcements arrive,
lift and drag the carcass out of the road.
“You really do need one another.”
The jolt of a rock slams the moose’s eyes shut.