Deer

The whiteness of deers’ fear

behind the wheel of the car

I stole.

Deep in the woods,

whispering moss.

The direction the road takes

is determined by the path

families will take.

On their way to an

end made of synthetic light,

hurtling metal.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.