Joan Payne Kincaid
The Deer
Crosses the Triboro Bridge
its tied black hooves shine horizontally
white tail bounces a last run;
wide-eyed, no longer needing vision
clearly dead in the high wind it cannot
feel;
all who see feel diminished...
to commuters this stiffened stillness is
out
of place
out of time
riding over men
on top of a red Subaru Station Wagon.