trout

So long as they confine themselves to this chore

Anna Jackson

They drive for miles through the night.
Then the sudden stop, the foot
slammed on the brake,
the two girls on the road
caught in the headlights, not fright
exactly in their eyes. Probably
trying to move the deer
not hug it, arms around its neck.
To his left, his wife is fast
asleep with her hand on the handle
as if ready to leap out.
Probably actually holding on.
Probably room to drive past
if he'll drive on the right.