As I lay in bed last night
listening to a fox kill a toad,
knowing I could have stopped its screams
I remained there lazily warm
drifting toward my dreams.
This morning I tossed its severed torso
onto the compost heap.
I shoveled it under leaves feigning regret,
but truthfully its spilled gut sickened me.
I sleep through most nights soundly,
though from some other world I hear disembodied howls.
In the morning I read the sports pages first
whilst shuffling headline-horrors beneath junk mail.
Notes from life 
This poems speaks far beyond its text, David. I was first struck by the title – made me think of all the “that is a worthy and wonderful thing to help these poor folks, but please not in my back yard” things you hear. Then reading the piece, I was taken with the clear and sheer complacency you are depicting. So many of us live this way. And though we may think ourselves kind, compassionate, charitable, we really aren’t for the most part. There are two lines within the poem which show true regret for inaction – Lines 3 and 11.
Wonderful stuff as always. Thank you for your continuing non-drivel.
D
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Thanks Devon, I am often taken aback by my own dissmissivness toward the suffering of others. We are all exposed to it (well most of us) in varying degrees, the danger is that we become nubm to it, this is an issue I know I have personally had to deal with.
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