She Prays For Dead Animals
She cringes as she closes her eyes and turns her head.
There’s another one, in the gutter.
She can’t bring herself to look at it.
She knows it will be mangled, guts glistening in the sun –
a face contorted in horror.
Her whole body tenses as she passes it.
“Godblessyou Godblessyou Godblessyou!” she says aloud
(or silently if anyone is in the car with her, lest they think she’s crazy).
Was that a skunk or black cat?
Big squirrel or small puppy?
She’s sad that others seem to drive past without so much a thought.
She wonders if there are others out there that pray for dead animals.
She looks in her rearview mirror but there is:
No reaction from the driver behind, just as she thought.
In a tailspin she is sent, whether dead dog or rat –
Man’s best friend or creepy, unwanted guest.
Both equal in God’s eyes, both worthy of her love.
She found a (poisoned) dying baby opossum
lying in her back yard the other day.
Her sister would have killed it and put it out of its misery –
she was gentle that way.
She couldn’t bring herself to do sister’s chore
so instead dug a hole behind the fence
and gently set down the scared, sick animal
She said a prayer an hour later
while scooping dirt on top.