A White Dove
A white dove
A White dove took flight as an innocent fought gallantly for life.
A victim of us. Rear legs ruined by a car, fatal for a creature of nature. But instinct
ruling. Survival.
Grim determination to reach the verge and painful death. Safety.
No one stopped. I did not stop. I drove on and over between my massive wheels.
I am ashamed. Too cowardly to check my mirrors.
I want no part in this.
My tear is hidden. Private
There was no hope but that showing in the rabbit’s young face.
Our relationship with nature seems at times like this so slight, if we really have a
relationship at all. Pretense.
I dare a glance in the mirrors.
Forty feet of trailer, steel grey sky.
No rabbit.
A white dove took flight.
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