Traveling Through the Dark

[a-healing-mind.livejournal.com]

Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.

By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car
and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;
she had stiffened already, almost cold.
I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.

My fingers touching her side brought me the reason--
her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting,
alive, still, never to be born.
Beside that mountain road I hesitated.

The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;
under the hood purred the steady engine.
I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;
around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.

I thought hard for us all--my only swerving--,
then pushed her over the edge into the river.

--William Stafford

Comments

[moshimoshi-13.livejournal.com]

This is one of the first poems I read that I actually enjoyed. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.:)

[elemmennope.livejournal.com]

Wow. Sad.

[claymedeiros.livejournal.com]

He wrote at least one poem ever day. A critic asked him if they were all good. "of course not," he said.

As we know, many were wonderful.

[rainsquall.livejournal.com]

How sad. Thanks for posting this.

[kvschwartz.livejournal.com]

I once wrote a paper on this poem. That makes me the world number one expert. :P

[nightcoffee.livejournal.com]

yikes. what a decision.