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,

It didn’t. 
Until tomorrow, I’m sorry, little buddy. 


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