I have recently seen a death of a beautiful deer on my morning route while driving. I couldn’t get it out of my head, so decided to write something about it.

Wreathing death and decay,
On morning’s pavement, like debris it lay.
Once full of life — now no more,
Eyes glance past it, a daily chore.

It twitches limbs, it lifts its head,
Its look is pleading: I don’t want to be dead.
Jerking, clinging to the thread of breath,
Caught in the grip of unfair death.

It once was beauty, wild and free,
Leaping through nature in purest glee.
Life felt endless, rich, intense —
No need for thought, no need for sense.

It must have, I thought, run
Across the road, beneath the sun,
Chasing freedom without regrets —
Till wheels dragged it to death’s cold nets.

They came with cord, a practiced hand,
Their hearts aligned, they made their stand.
One quick snap — and it was done.
I wept while driving through that terrible dawn.