Two-lane road, all curves and dips-dark woods,a stream,a patchy acre of teazle and grass.You don't see the deer till they turn their heads.
And here what you do:pick the deer up like a bride.Wrestle it back of the car- the seat folded down.
A stoplight, you're almost home and the deer scrambles back to life, its long head appears like a ghost in the rear view mirror and bites you,its teeth clamp down on your shoulder and maybe you scream.
He's angry, you tell him what happened:the dark road, the deer you couldn't avoid.
He opens the tailgate, drags the quivering deer out by the leg.
Your father walks to the tool shed, comes back lugging a concrete block. Some things stay with you.