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A Deer Stalks
Night stampedes wind-horses.
I edgily negotiate the sharp corners
of swerving shadows.
The hind hoof of a doe
slaps the reflection of my startled face,
the Chevy twitches, plows on -
headlights rake the earth.
From a rear-view mirror
I see myself prone on the asphalt,
terrified limbs still stamping
over a shell-shocked mind.
The deer chased its bones,
disappearing into the sight unseen.
Night dropped its iron curtain.
Later,
I sleep dead-eyed
behind a spinning wheel.
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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