Softly, gently hoof to track
Straight down the center
She steps into Henry Ford's dream
Bushes beckon her back to the wilderness
But she's content to see what man is up to
She looks back at me in my car
In her eyes are years
She owns this town
They've always made me apprehensive, the deer
Their absolute silence
Coupled with the maniacal suicidal encounters on some highways
And sometimes on the railroad tracks in small towns.
There was a deer walking down the center of the tracks when I was on my way back from the gym. The reference to Henry Ford was due to a book I was reading about his odd project in the Amazon. One of his dreams was to see nature and industry hand in hand. I'm thoroughly annoyed with this poem, because it didn't do the moment or my emotions on the subject any justice. But, hey I posted!