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Roadkill


The morning sun filtering
Through the Poplar tress
Casting a warm glow
Upon a small knoll
In a grassy clearing
Two young fox kits
Emerge from their den
Their mother lies sprawled
On the sun soaked grass
She turns her head
As her mate emerges
From the tree line
With his nightly kill
An unlucky rabbit
To feed his growing offspring
The rabbit is deposited
Before the hungry kits
The kits attack their meal
With vigil and abandonment
Strange sounds can be heard
Through the trees
The kits are soon yawning
With their bellies full
They curl up into a ball
For a mid- morning nap
After several hours sleep
They awaken to the strange
Sounds in the distance
Curiosity gets the better
As they run and bounce
Towards the alien noise
Approaching the woods edge
They causally look around
A black top road appears
Before their curious eyes
Ever watchful they crept
To the road’s edge
From around the bend
A fast moving vehicle approaches
The kits sit on their haunches
By the edge of the road
Starring with eyes glued
To the advancing vehicle
They are now frightened
As the fast moving vehicle nears
The female all in a panic
Dashes out onto the road
There is a thud
As the little female
Tumbles to the road side
The car has sped on
Soon gone from sight
The injured kit is whimpering
Her back legs are broken
She tries to crawl
Towards her brother
Her brother licks her face
Not knowing what is wrong
He is all in a panic
Running back and forth
From wood’s edge to road
At last he realises
That his sister lies lifeless
He sits on his haunches
Stirring at his lifeless sister
Lying at the road’s edge
His once vibrant playmate

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~ by kenben on 11/03/2014.

4 Responses to “Roadkill”

  1. A powerful piece.

    • Thank you Cynthia. This piece of work was based on a scene that I came across two years ago on my way home one evening. I observed a dead kit by the roadside with a sibling hanging around.

  2. “I can see the scenes
    rolling in my brain,
    graphic pictures of a kill
    and the hungry consumption of a prey
    by the roadside you watched
    so intently by the Mica bay…”

    This short poem is for you, Ken. I was inspired by the colorful Maple trees as you made a trek…. words just scribbled into my head and each of them
    just went into its rightful places. Regards!

  3. Wonderful

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