Bending around and leaping over rocks the river's kettledrum's pounding, trombone's sliding the length of someone else's dream. On a road that parallels the river, a deer was caught in a poet's headlights. Dead, her unborn child was dead too. I thought hard for us all—my only swerving— then pushed her over the edge into the river. Today I saw humanity floating in the current, its childhood still kicking within.