I slow slightly to avoid hitting him
and he continues across the street
beneath the path of an oncoming car

I watch as he grows larger
than he appears
in my mirror
as he slips under the rear tire
and spins up into the air
beyond

loose and fluid and delicate in his movements
like a dancer

he comes down hard and graceless

above my mantel
is a framed series of images
of birds, badly drawn
that intrigues me
solely because of the effort devoted
to the witnessing

and so here is the ruined body of a squirrel

in my outstretched hands

.