Sunday, January 27, 2019

white tail

... driving through the snow on BIA 7-0-1, almost to our destination, we stopped for a hundred deer to cross the high way, one by one, just as the Drum began to swell on the Reservation radio.
white-tail deer
silhouettes in headlights,
moon in every eye

here's the verse John Carley and
Sandra Simpson had a hand in


Magyar said...

The nifty artwork and thought; this, an imagined response to your good post. _m

this train
when safety gaits have risen
whitetail crosses

__ My brittle imagination has 'seen' a deer, waiting for the train to pass in order to cross
the tracks, and reach that old forest further up the road.

bandit said...

here's an odd response, perhaps, but a nearby stretch of Interstate holds a record for most deer road kill. I commute, and think maybe it's only a matter of time, unlike the full stop made for this laconic herd at dawn.
What caught me was how they waited to cross, flanked by headlamps, in an orderly single file. (Sisseton Wahpeton Lakota)
I've been writing this haiku since 2013. I had to choose between moon or Drum, but not both.
I'm reminded of coming upon 50 or so black tails scattered on a lonely stretch of Texas trunk highway on a cloudy night without a moon at 90 miles an hour. I was very young ...

bandit said...

The drum starts at 6 or so every weekday morning. the link is under Asymmetry.