Jacklighting

Route 95, his pickup headlights

like camera lenses.

Snapshot of a deer in the grass,

ankles so skinny he wraps a hand

around all four and lugs the sleek tan body

over his shoulder.

His boots depress into the wet soil

and the deer sinks with him,

blood on its shoulder, on his shoulder.

He begins to walk, antlers strike

when his shoulder blades fall back--

through flesh, through muscle, the collision of bone.

He stops,

he inhales,

he moans.