Speeding out of the sunrise,
on the first day of the year.
Eyes burning with hope,
eyes burned a hole
in the side of the road.
There lay a dog.

On her side, straight-legged,
neatly placed there by someone
who felt the thud, the crumple.
Who looked into her fading eyes
and sped into the cold night.

I waited with the body
until a car pulled up beside.
The man stooped over her, stared,
ran a familiar hand through her fur
and lifted her inside.
Her legs stuck at right angles;
I turned my face away.
In the rear view, the man grew
as he approached our car.

She’s scared of thunder,
he began, as if to explain,
And fireworks too. New Year’s Eve…
I swear I locked the gate.
I swear I locked the gate.

Her body shivered in my mind.
The world was booming and smelt wrong
but the ones she loved were all asleep,
all out of reach,
so she ran, escaped, across the street.