The Long Shadow

Once, in a barren strip of land

between highway and train tracks,

a groundhog’s head

popped up from his hole

to survey his rodent kingdom.

He caught my eye as I waited there

for the stoplight to turn green.

Twenty years on, I rarely pass

that still-empty patch of dusty ground

without recalling his grizzled face,

wondering how long he survived

in such a desolate place,

and wishing I could have told him

he left tracks upon my soul.