Today I drove past a dead goose strewn across the left lane, feet from the curbed median.
This was the second time in relevant memory I saw a dead goose. There is something more striking and unnerving about seeing a dead goose. Maybe it's because the body is so well preserved; it looks only as though it's laid across the street, asleep, tranquilized, immobile: only the context suggests death.
Maybe it's the goose's ability to fly that makes its vehicular death more unsettling. Most roadkill are animals constrained to land, and cars are a frequent, expected risk. Maybe it's simply the gooses's size, so large that it's an obstacle on the road, rather than a decoration.
Goose is on the road
Neck outstretched, wings unfurled
It shouldn't be there
Sunday, May 2, 2010
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