Far away at 2 AM, awake;
with her silver bells
a gentle chime of frozen roads.
“I couldn’t brake in time,
the doe came rushing out
too late, too fast, I braked in vain”
Sliding to the impact, she broke apart
into bones and sinews,
blood rain on my windshield.
as she lay rag-doll-ditched
across the roots beside the road.
Afterwards — a stillness in the car
mumbling almost tenderly
we waited for a coupe de grace,
the mercy of her death, a mercy just for us.
“Did you dive inside her eyes?
Did you live her death?
Did you listen to her fear?”
Her heart a trembling bell for just a while.
An aimless wail.
Again, again at 2 AM.
Insistent knells – the fading silver of her eyes
just like bells are tears embraced,
Sound is twisted like her broken neck
waiting with the mercy of persistent bells.
“I recall the snow that settled
on her body — rising — breathing one more time,
again, again she breathed, her body rising;
until she trembled and lay still.”
At 2 AM the air is breathless,
panting with our waiting, soft like silver bells;
my breath is stumbling like her heavy heart
I’m crushed by mercy of her bells.
Karin challenge us to write poetry on chiming bells at toads. This brought to mind when we witnessed a doe being killed by a car. The worst thing was to watch the poor thing dying. I will link up to Poetry Pantry in tomorrow morning as well.
May 16, 2015