Poem - Pointed Crossing

The only reason I was driving slow
Instead of fish-tailing
Careening and swerving
Joyously enduring
My daughter's sternest looks
Was that it was the new car
The one we hadn't driven on dirt roads
The one that wasn't caked with mud
And that I had promised would never be so
But it had rained
On the dirt road
And ponderously I crept
Keeping the mud inside the wheel well
Not up over the hood
Smeared across the windshield
Caked to the undercarriage
Cautious and careful
Wary of every puddle and bog
As promised

I was rewarded
For an honored vow
As we intruded on the morning walk
Of the local stud of the deer clan
A handsome beast
About to cross the road
Our headlights told him not here
He quickly rerouted
Paused a moment
The briefest of nods
Then leaping to a sprint
Across the fog tinged field
To run and forage
Before the rest of the herd stirred
If he would have waited
We could have bumped fist
Completed the ritual
Begun by the tilt of a head
Continued in smashing knuckles
Alas a lingering look was all I got
Enough of a reward
For keeping the car clean
Slow as the sunrise we drove
Peaceful as a striding buck