A Hit and Run.

I may have murdered
made a hit-and-run
encountering a seagull
wandering mid-road
today.

Birds could just as well be people,
climbing the air like stairs
escalators
and steeples
of air currents.

I saw
and tried to
dodge
death impend
but I'm afraid it was too late.
And from my mirror rear view
the bird's head spun around
cocked to the side
in gruesome twist.

Tendons, veins, yes.
Feathers of course.
Blood, always.
And as its little body lurched to live
with its flea-ridden
seagull head snapped
by a well-made Swedish sedan
weighing over a ton
I ruefully drove on
thinking of how many other beings
I would wound unintentionally during my lifetime.