Where is the regret?

Not in his wicked smile

But please be behind it,

Since it is also held in

Clasped fingers losing blood flow

Tightening and turning white.

The deer struck and crumpled now

But not one car has slowed down.

Where is the regret

In his rear view mirror?

Please be hiding your pain.

Please.

Please,

have pity for a life’s ending

in a place that was not made for it.

Let me loose my fingers’ pleading.

And feel- with me- the Earth

growing heavy behind diaphragms,

mine, yours,

and impossibly peaceful Death’s.