Don’t know what killed the mole;
on close inspection I saw no damage
from talons of barred owl or punctures
from cat attack.
But there it was, looking like a stone
with feet; small, pink with nails.
Pointed nose, short naked tail, no eyes or ears,
just a rock with paddles.
Didn’t want to touch it,
no matter that I pick up dead birds.
Scooped it up on the shovel
and tossed the body into the woods.
Something will eat it.
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