Bargain with Artemis
When he finds the dead deer, he marvels.
An unexpected feat from a dog so small,
so friendly, not rabid, yet fearful of deer.
The corpse lies just beyond the property line.
The neighbor’s problem, perhaps.
There’s no field dressing or meat for the
freezer. Before evening lands, they agree
neither wants to pay removals costs so
they ignore the risks of disease and act.
Broken bones, a heavy black bag.
His neighbor has a trailer. They travel
to the landfill, hesitating only briefly
over the fee. They separate in silence,
fanning hands against invisible vapor.
Nightfall, stars appear translucent.
The next morning, after his dog is hit
by a rapid car, he finds he weeps not
for the family pet but the deer which
might have lived in an altered calendar.
If he believed in fate or leashes.
While he can bury the animal alone,
or snare it beneath a bag on trash day,
he’s bothered how little his neighbor
seems to care—all cool, shy as a doe.
She parked first. Straightened twice.
M. Kolbet teaches and writes in Oregon.