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Coughing Up The Asphalt of Wilson River Road

by Rob Littler

I found a coyote on the roadside
dead with a stench I fooled myself
I didn't like. I gasped, inhaling death deep,
and held, while birds pecked
an exposed rib cage and twisted face,
with a slight grin;
he seemed satisfied,
having expired there, a speed
bump under the wheels of a car.
Or maybe it was I
who was satisfied,
with his lifeless form and empty matter,
with the fact that all flesh
must decay unto it's end, taking with it even
the soul, which is fed through life,
and releasing the spirit, which is

Traveling through the Dark BY WILLIAM E. STAFFORD Traveling through the dark I found a deer dead on the edge of the Wilson River road. It is usually best to roll them into the canyon: that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.


Posted on 11/11/2011
Copyright © 2021 Rob Littler

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 11/17/20 at 03:45 PM

I enjoyed your poem’ s zen like approach to life. Portions of it reminded me of that splendid poem, The Groundhog, by Richard Eberhart..

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