Stopping My Car for a Deer after Hearing the News Report

author's note:

Years ago, I was told: we must lead our leaders.

I'm trying, I'm trying.


STOPPING MY CAR FOR A DEER AFTER HEARING THE NEWS REPORT

The radio tells me:
at the peace summit meeting
old men can't mend old grievances--

but who am I to criticize them?--
I still can't heal old wounds.

Our leaders lead us into fear

but who am I to criticize them
when fear still rules my head?

Angry disappointment
at the news and at myself
nearly has me driving blind

until I'm struck by the sight
of a deer lying beside the highway--
a casualty of crossing--
the rapid huffing of its chest
tells me death is near.

I'm flooded with empathy
but perhaps I put my foot to the brake
because I see a way to redeem myself
--if only slightly:

I will whisper some comfort
into the ear of that terrorized creature:
I'll ease its sad passage--

I'll gaze into its dark round eye
and beg forgiveness

for what?--
for the failures of all humankind.

But as I slam the car door shut
the deer abruptly stands up
on spindly yet stable legs

then in an instant
it bounds off across a brilliant meadow
to disappear into a copse of trees in shadow.

I hesitate for a moment, then follow...

I don't know what I'm doing
and yet I do.


What I Learned while Alone: poetry ebook
© 2017, Michael R. Patton