The Raccoon

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He was old. That much was evident.

Although, unlike tree rings, the rings on his

tail gave nothing away.

He sauntered from the side yard, moving leisurely

one might almost say lethargically,

he seemed in no particular hurry.

Ambling across the road, his sights far away

he moved steadily, albeit slowly

toward an unseen goal.

Some neighbor got the wind up

and called animal control –

talk of rabies went round in whispers.

He wasn’t rabid; just old. His course was straight.

Slowly walking to a final destination.

His preferred place to die.

— Virginia Barrie

Barrie is a local actor, director and writer. She has the pleasure of heading up the Senior Poetry Group based at Lawrence Library.

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