Wrecked
My daughter witnessed death today
Only a lowly squirrel
But, the thump, the crack, the randomness
Sent wild her little world
She screamed and sobbed and shook a bit
Tried an escape inside my arms
But there was no way around the thing
And so she cursed the driver long
She then imagined hover cars
Invention as a cure!
With tears still streaming down her face
She’d found a fix, yes, she was sure
But by evening she confessed to me
The scene was seared inside her brain
Nothing she tried could stop the death
From happening again
I have my own confession child
It’s not the kill that wrecks me so
But the playmate who had given chase
Now left alone beside the road
-a.r.
Painting: Squirrels by Albrecht Dürer
sometimesihatemycat 
A wonderful poem, Amy. I very good meditation class, as well.