And I hit the road
Sometimes the country
is the only place you can find peace
So much roadkill on these journeys
People speeding past
At more kilometres
Than fits the hour
No one checked the apron pocket
Too overcome
By what was done
No one checked to see
If she harboured life.
Easy said, it was just forgotten
Easy done.
So much on your mind
Reconfiguration of time
In these early morning wake up calls
Beyond the witching hour,
The time for birth
Or love
When ghouls you know
Rise from the road kill
Everyone else left behind
Unacknowledged
It's a long highway out of town
Just to find you're in another
Down the line
I always drive carefully
Especially dawn and dusk
And day and night
I take responsibility for my own path
So I'm turning off the road
Up the long dirt drive
Off the map
Lovely but oh so sad. Wildlife volunteers spray an x on dead kangas with fluoro paint when they have been check for joeys.
ReplyDeleteI cannot bear roadkill (and lambing time now when it is freezing so I dare not look) and don't get me started logging trucks in convoys hurtle through this tiny town after 11pm and I despair.
Dear Ann,
ReplyDeleteI did not know that the animals that are killed on the road are finally checked. I am glad for it. That it is done by volunteers makes it all the more valuable.
When people monitor their behaviour as a reaction to the visibility of authority rather than in response to the surrounding community we lose a real and viable component of responsibility. Those hurtling drivers, whether through countryside with wildlife or towns with fellow men, seem to have an independent objective.
Miss Ann, It is nice to see you after so long.
xx