DM Babbit Poet Narrative

The Last Stag

He ventured from
 the wooded square acred forest that remained
  in search of food and a companion or two,
there was neither;
 down along the rows of $600, 000 homes,
  5000 square foot monoliths for two and a child
fenced in against the surrounding world,
 traveling along, alone on  a desolate
  macadam paved roads
and the concrete stepping stones
 that ached 
  in the touch on his swollen hooves;
it was the three o'clock hour
 the darkness surrounding the early morning hours,
  no traffic sounded on the pavement,
he stepped cautiously listening
 straining to reach the other side
  as the car reared its fender against him
it raced away pushing him to the curb
 where he lay slowly dying
  stretching his life into extinction
lost to the progress of mankind.

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Daniel Turner April 28, 2023 at 8:18 AM This is very sad, DM. A harsh reality. Written very well. we just keep pushing them farther away, destroying their habitat with our lust for oppulence. Have a great weekend:)