I-24E

by Nick Rossi

 

 

There are few things as beautiful
As the leaves dying in staggered unison
On the trees along the highway
On the hills and ridges
Blanketing the rock in rust orange and cranberry red
Vibrant explosions of leaflets
Chlorophyll-drained, anthocyanin-drenched
Colors so alive that one forgets

That they are in a state of decay, however sweet
That they will be brown and bare in less than a week

The exceptional dying leaves
Distract from the mangled brown-red mass of fur-blood
Lying there on the shoulder
Lying there, heaped and dead
The remains of the deer are oddly grotesque and limp
Legs twisted and unnatural
Head smashed by the grill of a passing truck
Form so unrecognizable

That it’s hard to imagine a creature so alive
That it chose to run in leaves rather than drive

 

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