quiet road 
at night
when headlights 
cease, time 
of possum 
raccoon and 
the skunk
they wander 
on asphalt 
journeys, while 
we sleep 
they sniff 
and scurry
when the 
moon is 
full or 
waning, under 
stars and 
foggy skies
they are 
out there
yet unseen 
but come 
morning sometimes 
stiff dead 
bodies, and 
we just 
swerve, in 
a hurry

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