Near Miss

I give a prayer of thanks that I am familiar
with the highway and anticipate the speed limit
at the town of Westfalia. Coming down the hill,
I have slowed already when the deer bursts
from the trees on the left side of the road that, blinded
by oncoming traffic, I cannot see. Out of the dark,
the buck jumps in front of my car. My eyes
see the heavy body with the amazing rack of antlers,
and my foot slams the brake in the same instant,
no brain in between. I brace for impact,
for the thud, crunch, splintering –
and hear nothing. The massive animal passes
a foot from my car and disappears.
I am surprised that I am not freaking out,
not even when I pull into the gas station
to sit still for a minute. I should be shocked,
should unravel into tears at the near miss,
but I feel oddly calm, just grateful
that there is no cadaver and no metal wreckage
and no blood, deer or human. I swing
back onto the highway and follow
a slow-moving truck all the way home.

Agnes Vojta grew up in Germany and now lives in Rolla, Missouri, where she teaches physics at Missouri S&T and hikes the Ozarks. She is the author of Porous Land, The Eden of Perhaps, and A Coracle for Dreams (Spartan Press), and her fourth collection, Love Song to Gravity, has come out from Stubborn Mule Press in 2025. Agnes is associate editor of Thimble Literary Magazine and host of the Poetry at the Pub reading series in Rolla. Her poems have appeared in a variety of magazines; you can read some of them on her website agnesvojta.com.