THE DEAD BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD How did a great Red-tailed Hawk come to lie—all stiff and dry— on the shoulder of Interstate 5? Her wings for dance fans Zac skinned a skunk with a crushed head washed the pelt in gas; it hangs, tanned, in his tent Fawn stew on Hallowe’en hit by a truck on highway forty-nine offer cornmeal by the mouth; skin it out. Log trucks run on fossil fuel I never saw a Ringtail til I found one in the road: case-skinned it with the toenails footpads, nose, and whiskers on; it soaks in salt and water sulphuric acid pickle; she will be a pouch for magic tools.
