the signs were there.
yellow, black trimmed, displaced squares of caution
whirled past the passenger window.
fear growing with each addition until
one blossomed into being.
a fawn, either too young for horns or their absence
resulting from gender. it glided across double yellow
lines breaking the silent pact of safety, an image
of ferocity, so gentle. colored by the shadow of
asphalt. its presence the ambivalence of dusk
vanishing swiftly into the foliage.
I gasped, gripped the wheel.
terrified of the magnitude of damage
that peace would have caused,
if I braked milliseconds later.