-Kansas samaritan-

to take a piss

I'll pull-over to the breakdown lane on Interstate 35

North to Olathe, where a short walk across the shoulder

toward the blind of the woods shelters the sensitivities of passers-by.

but what’s a dead newborn opossum doing all the way out here?

it's got the snout.

it's got the grey skin.

it's got the pink dot

at the end of both ends.

not long dead;

no infestation, and in the palm of my hand it feels pliable, 

as if death excused itself at the moment of my intrusion.

I'll lay the lifeless newborn opossum in the high meadow-grass

far enough away to avoid splattering, enjoy a quick relief at the tangle

of the sassafras then carry it to the center lane markers of Interstate 35

North to Olathe where it belongs in the company of the spirits of its own kind.