May 26, 2010
One of those surreal moments when you realize that your own limping through life is nothing compared to an animal's actual injury.
She hobbled across 68th Street
A gait as slow as time eternal
I, her only companion, thankfully,
As I braked, waited for her to pass.
A right foreleg maimed
Born without hoof or lower leg,
No consequence of man as I could tell:
No gunshot. No metal hood. No unseen trap.
Blessed it was me that watched her go
So slowly across my path, my doe.