When I was a kid
I thought an elk
must be my spirit animal
and the one
I wanted most to be.
I lived to spot them
on long walks
through the mountainous
high country
at the edges of meadows
and through the aspens.
Paul observed
I behaved like
an armadillo—
curled into my shell,
a protected ball, whenever
I got teased.
I guess he was right.
Riding rural
southwest highways
with their countless corpses
marking the pavement
flattens me
like news of another
friend’s death.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
Haunting and intimate. I can especially relate with the sight of corpses littering the highway knocking you flat. This business of living and dying is so messy and terrible and beautiful.
LikeLike