You are surprised to see me.
I stand by the black motorcycle
as you hobble down
the steep asphalt, your right-rear
more of a rudder than a leg.
You freeze, head low, tail down.
We regard each other.

“Deer kick you?” I say. “A car?”
Your eyes reflect the porch light,
yellow and bright.
I don’t blink either.
I open my mind
but hear only stone
from the wall behind you.

Perhaps your community will help
punch that meal ticket stuck
in the pocket where your paw
curls off the ground as
you vanish through the rhododendron.
I light the bike and rumble to work,
grateful your leg is not my brain.

(top: king-animal.blogspot.com; bottom: coyoteyipps.com)