bighorn sheep and fox. w/ cottontail and black bear

are done. the primal forests hostage. the sky singed

w/ swirling particles.

the leaves of grass are leaving—O,

glint to which i’ve bent. blood pooling

on the asphalt. big brown eyes that fix

on nothing but the imprint of the sky. as if

remembering. i see myself reflected

in clouds that are the eyes that didn’t look both ways

before it crossed. the fawn that didn’t stop

for drivers on their cell phones. the trails we’ve marked w/

speeding cars. buses swerving so as not to crush

the body still alive. though barely breathing.