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
Daniel W. Polk 