​The Still Doe

I saw a dead doe this morning

The man who shot it had left it to bleed

It felt odd seeing something that had moved with such grace now frozen still in rigor mortis

Her eyes were still open as if searching for help

I wonder why the man killed her

I wonder why he left the body

I wonder even more what she had felt in those last moments

Her life before

Her life after

To have everything taken in the dying light of dusk

Was the artificial beam of a flashlight the last light her eyes saw, or did she bear witness to the waning moon as it made its appearance in the darkening sky?

I hope she didn’t suffer greatly

Something to make an atrocity mean something

My face tastes salty amidst strewn tears

The needless savageness of man is so peculiar

Having buried what was left of her form in cold ground, I hope what comes next is softer than this place