I saw a rat on the highway,
it was dead,
splattered on the asphalt,
by car tyres and rain.

I wonder,
is it the same rat I saw the other day,
in front of my wheels,
on a dark late night near the same spot?

I slowed down and watched it run,
over an unfamiliar surface in artificial light,
a recent divide,
of human intervention.

it jumped off the road onto the grassy berm,
and survived,
to be with lovers and babies,
it’s spring after all.

The highway is new,
the rats were here first,
what right do we have,
to drive through their patch?

© Sitara Morgenster

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