Witness

The chipmunk,
through no fault of his own,
sat trailside wounded
perhaps I interrupted his prayer —
final words on the wind —
but he startled slowly
and limped across my path
with labored breath
into the shady solace
of honeysuckle
as I whispered comfort
in a soft, quiet voice
stayed a while as witness

found myself still thinking
about that chipmunk
through no fault of his own
wounded, trailside
as the blue car crashed
more silently than you might think
into the white minivan
on the busy byway
pieces of metal flying
in front of me, wondering

did he die without fear
quietly — there — in sweet release?

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Poem ©2024 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.