October 13th 2016
Today I have a poem…
In all my life,
On all my drives,
I’ve never hit a soul.
Not a badger, bird, or mole.
This morning a squirrel ran out,
I did not swerve, I heard no clout
I guessed I’d hit him with my wheel
I heard no squeak or squeal
For a second I did not look back
To see if he’d survived the whack
If I did not look, he was not dead
Not at least within my head.
It was both dead, and living, as I passed
It was Schrodinger with Squirrels, not Cats.
If I peeked in the mirror I might’ve seen
It’s heart, it’s liver, it’s external spleen.
Or maybe it dove and dodged my car
Escaped without a single scar.
I had to check, who was I kidding?
I looked to see if it survived,
Until tomorrow, I’m sorry, little buddy.