A Midwinter Memory of Summer
The “thunk” is enormous, sounding like something large hitting the car roof.
But then I see it — small, soft, and green, disoriented in front of me.
Then, resolute, it crawls off across the windshield, a shadowy pedestrian I am urged to stop for.
So we stop, and I watch its progress
before finding a piece of straw to carry it to safety.
