| I feel my luck could change. |
[17 Jun 2005|01:19pm] |
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mood |
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 numb |
] |
I am far too lazy to change the security settings on all one hundred twenty-seven of my entries dating back to last October.
However, henceforth this journal will be:
Soon, I may begin phasing old entries into friends-only status. I know I have several readers who don't have LiveJournal accounts, and you guys mean the world to me, so if you talk to me about it I would probably be willing to give you my password or find some other way for you to read my entries, if you want to.
I am leaving for a week tomorrow morning. Don't change too much while I'm gone.
Thank you.
Traveling Through the Dark
William Stafford
Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.
By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car
and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;
she had stiffened already, almost cold.
I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.
My fingers touching her side brought me the reason-
her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting,
alive, still, never to be born.
Beside that mountain road I hesitated.
The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;
under the hood purred the steady engine.
I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;
around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.
I thought hard for us all-my only swerving-,
then pushed her over the edge into the river.
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