Day 8 - falling behind

Today is a Tuesday, so two prompts:

• Write a violent poem. Could be person on person violence, person on animal, animal on animal, nature on person/animal/nature, and so on (insects, erosion, cosmos, etc.).
• Write a peaceful poem. I suppose this might be the opposite of a violent poem. But perhaps not.

Don't

What is it about squirrels?

They run across the street and when traffic is coming.   Stop.

Then run almost all the way back to the curb and stop

Turn and run right under the wheels of the truck.

I am in the car behind. 

I see this happening.

I pray it won't do what I know it will do.

It is back safe, almost to the curb

It turns, runs exactly right under the wheels of the truck.

I swerve, but look in the mirror.

I see it flopping in pain,

its front half, flattened,

its beautiful tail

waving

as if it is the hand of someone drowning.

I thought: I'll forget about this little fella

before long but my day is winding down

and I still see that tail, flag of hopeless hope,

lit flickering bronze in the light of morning.

His body has probably been run over thirty times since.

I think: this is what it has been like - loving those I need the most.

I see phantoms of them, one by one, 

waving in my rear-view mirror.