Running Woodchuck

As was I, he was speeding, he as if his life depended on it, I knowing
that the life I wanted depended on it.
I could have outrun him, could have, had I wished,
ended his plump, brown existence.
He may not have known that, only sensed that
this gaunt figure approaching on the macadam
could do him no good and maybe harm
and it wasn't worth debating. Just get the hell
across the lawn and under the nearby front porch.
Built low to the ground, he extended his form, his black nose
stretching, impossibly elastic, his front paws extended, rear up in the air,
belly just above the mown green blades,
frozen in space the instant I saw him
and then, in the shadows, he disappeared, not this time extinguished,
and my pace unbroken I ran on, breathing in on four strides, out on two,
my own gaunt pursuer days, months, years ahead and I running toward,
not away.