Fall Issue 2022
Six deer lay along the side of the road
on the trip going east, and another ten deer
along the westbound lanes on our return
trip back along with multiple raccoons,
possums, and other animals too disfigured
to determine what species they once were
when they still remained living,
along with large red splatters covering several
sections of the road, probably deer,
based on the size of the splatters.
The deer had since been removed,
but their blood still remained, waiting
for the rains to wash it away.
Not everything viewed was lifeless, seeing
one deer on the other side of some trees,
still alive, not appearing of having
any intention of crossing the road at this time.
The animals did not know
that the road was hazardous to their health,
though it wasn’t the road that was the problem,
but the cars and trucks that
travelled at fast speeds along it,
and they over estimated their own skills
on how quickly they could cross,
thinking they were faster than the cars and trucks.
It will never be known how many succeeded
crossing the road, only the ones that did not.
Preferred Walking Style
He was walking on the sidewalk along the
busy street wearing pants and a short sleeve shirt,
holding an umbrella propped open,
though it wasn’t raining at the time and there
wasn’t any hint of rain from looking at the sky,
and rain was not in the forecast for the day.
The sun was out with no clouds
for it to hide behind and the temperature
was comfortable, only in the low eighties.
Covering up with an umbrella
was one method of avoiding getting
sunburned by not allowing the sunshine to
land on his skin denying him of his daily dose
of Vitamin D, but what could I say, I was
in my car as I drove by him, the windows
rolled up with the air conditioner turned on,
other than if I had been walking I would
have worn shorts and a T-shirt along with
a baseball cap to protect my balding head.
Each of us has our own preferred
method of walking on a sunny day,
but I prefer not holding anything in my hands,
other than maybe an ice cream cone
as I stroll along on a nice summer afternoon.
On my early morning walk I passed by
the Walmart parking lot, and as usual
there were plenty of cars in the lot even
though it was only 5:30 in the morning.
Some might have been shopping after getting
off work before heading home while others may have
needed something before they headed off to work.
I was doing neither. I was just on my early
morning walk, my daily ritual when it
wasn’t raining or too terribly cold outside,
and today I noticed the dimmer lights still on
one of the cars in the lot, but I figured it was
just one of the employees who had recently arrived
since the car was on the back side of the lot,
the furthest away from the front doors.
I continued my walk for another two blocks
then returned to go back home.
The car’s dimmer lights were still on,
but I could not see anyone in the front seat
until getting within a few feet of the car finding
that it was still running, and the once upon time
driver was fast asleep in the fully reclined front seat.
I had planned on doing a good deed by
getting the make and license number of the car
to report it to someone working inside
the store to advise that one of their employees’
car lights were still on, but I no longer needed
to do that since that person was still in the car,
but still, I did my good deed anyway, by not waking
him up, letting Sleeping Beauty continue to sleep in peace.
In today’s Sunday paper there was a
manufacturer’s coupon for a toothbrush,
but it said it was for a manual toothbrush,
not knowing why it just couldn’t be
listed as a toothbrush and would be
differentiated by calling the other kind
an electric toothbrush, though that
probably isn’t really true either?
It is really a battery powered toothbrush
since they aren’t attached to any power cords,
and not knowing if anything such thing
existed as a solar power toothbrush
or a wind power toothbrush.
Did they call other items with the manual
label, for example, like manual hammers,
though I now had a pounding headache
from the woodpecker hammering away on the
tree outside my window.
Duane Anderson currently lives in La Vista, NE. He has had poems published in Fine Lines, Cholla Needles, Tipton Poetry Journal, and several other publications. He is the author of ‘Yes, I Must Admit We Are Neighbors,’ ‘On the Corner of Walk and Don’t Walk,’ and ‘The Blood Drives: One Pint Down.’