Dan Butterfass
has lived in Minnesota all his life and in Rochester, Minnesota for the past
fourteen years, where he and his wife, Ellen, are raising three children. He has
worked, among other ways, as an independent bookstore owner, outdoor writer and
a fly-fishing and canoe guide. He currently owns and operates a history and
eco-oriented tour company.
Collision
The night he struck a deer
and totaled his car he came home
shaken by the jolt that stopped
him and sent a great doe hurtling,
already dead, as if beached
on the frozen median ditch.
He watched his hand tremble
as the fork lifted spaghetti
to his mouth; he wanted to go to sleep
early but not alone. He wanted to brush
his daughter’s hair, to read to her,
which he did and after that began
telling her stories of simple
remembrances of growing up:
playing kick-the-can until after dark,
catching leopard frogs with cheap
nets from a vernal pool that formed
in a low spot each spring in an elderly
couple’s backyard; the delicious
aroma of bakery as he delivered
newspapers before dawn, the cold
milk and glazed doughnut
he would glide his bike downhill to,
afterward. He was glad to be lightly
tickling her back, as she had
asked him to, to be wondering
which stories she had heard,
and which she had missed
and when had she fallen asleep?
