Last night somewhere between Pineville
And Paxville I made choices that
I forgot about until today.
My memory was served by
The dead possum on the
Other side of the road.
(The irony was that once he was dead
I was able to dodge him.)

Last night when he stepped
Out on to the road,
For just a moment I swerved left
Right toward the oncoming car
With one head light.
When I swerved right,
I tried to straddle him,
But missed, or didn't actually.

I forgot about it
Until I returned today and saw
The opossum body on the other side
Of the road.
I wondered,
Had he crawled there,
Been thrown there,
Or hit again?

I guess it doesn't really matter,
But sadness descended still.
It was a choice I had to make,
And someone had to die.
These choices.