Unnatural

There is the carcass
of a deer in the center
of a lane stained yellow,
a mangled heap blanketed
by a thin sheet of ice.
I imagine it’s the bones
in the femur or fibula that
fall weakest to a 4,000 lb.
moving mass of metal.

That’s all we are, isn’t it?
Metal. Forcing our way
through the cycle, tearing
into every good thing this
world tries to offer us.
We break our own antlers
before spilling the blood.

– B.

One thought on “Unnatural

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