A Humanist's Musing on Mortality (also, Highway Hypnosis)

Tunnel of darkness formed between streetlights,

orange glint in the glassy eyes of a dead racoon.

Turn away, don't meditate on the fragility of its

skull or organs or the rabbit you swerved to miss

but hit anyway last week. Don't think of a bump.

Don't think of a crunch and a candle snuffed out.

Don't look back at the poor ringed fluffy tail, or

the cute pointy nose now possessed by decay.

Eyes on the road ahead. Drive ever so carefully.

Switch focus back to oncoming cars in the dark.

Lights growing brighter and brighter, a flicker

of brilliance,

then gone.