Rare Time on Sunday to Reflect

Didn't write about the deer I saw the other day
skinny and delirious, running out of one of
the city's downtown public housing projects
hooves like skates on the asphalt surface, frantic

Didn't write about the several skinny foxes darting
across the road after nightfall along the entire route home,
and the slow porcupine standing still in my headlights waiting
for its death, reprieved tonight and probably oblivious

Didn't write about the dates I've been on and the moments of
life I felt, surprising me. Still alive and perhaps of momentary interest
at least to someone else. Despite this,  I'm chained to the floor.
"You're probably still in love" she said,  kindly.