by Ayesha Shibli
I saw too many dead things driving on I-49
and I told my sister check my texts to make
sure I didn’t dislodge the half-torn deer leg
and bring it with us. It became another car game
for us to play. I counted a deer, four possums
and two beyond what I could name. It was raw,
the deer torn in the middle of the lane, and I saw
how I’d never held anything the way each piece
of flesh clung to unthreading sinew, with faith
that something was always meant to hold it fast.
Last minute I swerved for that deer and after all
I’d seen it still felt new. I heard the news about you
driving two weeks later. I wanted so badly not to bring
the dead with me but I’ve been carrying you everywhere.