My Dearest I’m So Sorry, Peacefully So

I drive down windy little roads

Seeing the elegiac critters

Painting the yellow lines

With gore and cries—

Such is seen everyday.

 

I wish to cradle these

Sad little souls;

I’ll rub their bellies,

And feed them crackers.

 

I wish to watch them

Grow older,

Older than me.

 

Even if they may never get the chance—

They deserve clean water,

And supple fruits.

 

I wish to hear them squeak and squawk

Hellos and goodbyes.

Relishing in the gentle embrace of the wind,

And the sweet smelling flowers in tall grass.

 

I feel a motherly part of me,

Weep seeing my beautiful—now dull—babies.

Reluctantly looking away,

Feeling a sob scrape its way from my throat.

 

With such ephemeral lives,

I want to scoop them up

Into my arms.

My sweetest baby,

My dearest joy,

Reduced to dirty ichor on the side of the road.