Nevada Wildlife
By Justin Evans
This poem was originally published in the journal, Petroglyph.
Driving south in the pre-dawn Nevada desert
on a two-lane road, I measure the distance between
my car and oncoming headlights in heartbeats.
Close to the road two mares stand
casting dark shadows, sleeping with one leg
raised, ready for the run.
One rests with her head on top of the other
perhaps dreaming of a valley hidden above
the snow line in a world I may never understand.
Later, as I near McGill, cars are more common.
The sky becomes flush with light
and rose-petal clouds.
A patchwork of crows scatters in the early morning sky
like a shotgun blast. Trapped on the road I can only
look at them one way:
The past is a thief
escaping on the wings of blackbirds.
Justin Evans lives in West Wendover, Nevada, with his wife and sons, where he teaches at the local high school. He is a veteran of the U.S. Army (1988-1992), and a graduate of Southern Utah University (History and English Education) and University of Nevada, Reno (Literacy Studies). He is the author of four chapbooks of poetry and six full-length collections of poetry. His current projects include another full-length collection of poetry and a translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize, he was awarded an artist fellowship from the Nevada Arts Council in 2022.
Photo courtesy of Justin Evans.