An Ode to Reticulated Armor

An Armadillo in repose
With outstretched arms and pensive nose
Appealing to the sky.
Only the Armadillo knows the reason why
It’s lying in the road.
Perhaps it paused to think great thoughts
And having thought of lots and lots,
It postured, waving grave intentions
Preparing for the exposition,
Of insights too profound to mention,

When in due course it was fatally struck
By a careless, careening pickup truck.

Take counsel all you small and great
When legs are short and hazards wait.
Don’t dawdle in abstract reflection,
Inviting horrible dissection.
Appreciate the armadillo,
Snuggling asphalt for a pillow.

Here's Thinking for You,
Iffy