Travelling Through the Dark

Travelling through the dark I found a possum
dead ont he edge of the Silverwater road.
It is ususally best to roll them into the canyon;
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.

By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car
And stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;
She had stiffened already, almost cold.
I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.

My fingers touching her side brought me the reason -
her side was warm; her baby lay there waiting,
alive, still, never to be born.
Beside that mountain road I hesitated.

The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;
under the hood purred the steady engine.
I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;
around our groupI could hear the wilderness listen.

I thought hard for us all - my only swerving -
then pushed her over the edge into the river.