I took the Herndon exit off the highway
Near midnight after a worn out summer evening
Driving forward to a sleepy bed and comic book
At an easy pace of 50, lights mostly green.
At the brink of an intersection
My headlights exposed a brown form
With wide eyes gleaming, rabbit ears erect, still jerking
In protest to his hind legs already crushed to the pavement.
That second I gasped, control fled
Without consultation, hands jerking the wheel
And yanking the world into a 50 mile per hour swerve.
When the road twitched straight again
My lungs re-engaged but could not deter
The flooding of inherent tragedy
Throbbing the ribs of my soul.
I considered the fact this was a stumble in the last step
Of one in transition to the hardly novel sight
Of umber and red splayed on the road,
Never before one that grasped at my own blood.
And I considered the fact that those black eyes
Condemned soulless so philosophically
Could possibly only reflect a projection of anguish
Stimulated within my own fragile psyche.
Yet I find myself remembering the rabbit’s audacity
In a defenseless fight against a common fate,
How I heard his heart beating faster
And nerves screaming louder than ever.
And I considered the fact that I still swerved.