Road Kill

Stuffing strewn through thistlebushed grass
goose down and cobbed webs
your furry skin, hollowed and splintered
the tracks (just on the other side of that chained linked fence)
hot as the sun can bake rusted black steel
granite stones still aching
from the last passing train; while you lie there
decapitated
an empty teddy-bear shell

May 5th

David Allen