![]() |
Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained | |||
Gary Snyder’s "The Dead by the Side of the Road" is an unflinching meditation on death, survival, and the uneasy intersection between the natural world and human infrastructure. Snyder, deeply rooted in ecological thought and indigenous traditions, presents a stark yet reverential engagement with roadkill, framing the bodies of dead animals not as mere accidents but as part of a continuum of life, ritual, and transformation. The poem begins with a striking image: “How did a great Red-tailed Hawk come to lie—all stiff and dry—on the shoulder of / Interstate 5?” The rhetorical question underscores both curiosity and lament, forcing the reader to consider the collision of wildness with modern highways. The hawk, a regal predator, now lifeless, becomes a casualty of a system indifferent to its presence. Yet even in death, its wings remain objects of beauty and power, “Her wings for dance fans,” suggesting their possible use in indigenous or shamanic ritual. The poet does not mourn in a detached way but engages directly with the dead, transforming them into something meaningful rather than leaving them as waste. Snyder extends this attitude of reverence through a series of vignettes involving other animals struck down by vehicles. “Zac skinned a skunk with a crushed head / washed the pelt in gas; it hangs, tanned, in his tent.” Here, death is not merely observed but repurposed. A skunk, normally dismissed for its foul odor, is preserved with care, its body transformed into something that remains part of the human experience. The pragmatic yet respectful approach continues with “Fawn stew on Hallowe’en / hit by a truck on highway forty-nine / offer cornmeal by the mouth; / skin it out.” The fawn, an innocent symbol of gentleness, does not go to waste. Instead, it becomes food, its sacrifice acknowledged in a spiritual gesture—offering cornmeal, a traditional indigenous act of gratitude for a life taken. The poem is saturated with a tension between natural cycles and human intrusion. “Log trucks run on fossil fuel” serves as a blunt reminder of how modern civilization continues to exploit ancient organic matter, furthering the ecological imbalance that leads to the destruction of wildlife. The phrase is both factual and ominous, linking the industrial world’s hunger for resources with the steady depletion of life. This theme of collision and disruption continues when Snyder recalls, “I never saw a Ringtail til I found one in the road: case-skinned it with the toenails footpads, nose, and whiskers on; it soaks in salt and water sulphuric acid pickle; / she will be a pouch for magic tools.” The ringtail, a nocturnal creature rarely seen in life, is only encountered in death, and yet its body is not discarded but carefully preserved, its transformation into a magical pouch suggesting that even roadkill can hold spiritual power. Perhaps the most haunting moment comes with the description of a “Doe... apparently shot lengthwise and through the side-shoulder and out the flank belly full of blood.” The imagery is clinical yet devastating, a reminder of the violence that exists beyond just accidental roadkill. The doe’s body, “if she didn’t lie too long” might still provide sustenance, but there is an implicit sadness in how even this sustenance is dependent on timing and luck. Snyder reminds us that death is not only tragic but also practical, an inevitable part of existence that demands both recognition and resourcefulness. The poem closes with a solemn invocation: “Pray to their spirits. Ask them to bless us: our ancient sisters’ trails / the roads were laid across and kill them: / night-shining eyes / The dead by the side of the road.” This final passage acknowledges the long histories of animal trails, pathways that existed long before highways, now paved over and turned into sites of destruction. The phrase “night-shining eyes” evokes the eerie glow of animal eyes reflecting headlights just before disaster strikes, a moment of recognition before death. The last line, “The dead by the side of the road,” functions as both a literal observation and a mournful refrain, marking the inevitability of loss in the modern world. Snyder’s form is fluid and unpunctuated, mirroring the organic process of decay and renewal that he describes. The lack of strict syntactical barriers allows the poem to read as a continuous meditation, much like a traveler moving down a highway, observing these deaths as they accumulate along the road. His approach is neither sentimental nor detached; instead, it embodies a kind of animistic respect for the fallen creatures, acknowledging both their suffering and their continued presence in the cycle of life. In "The Dead by the Side of the Road," Snyder challenges the reader to look directly at what is usually ignored—roadkill, waste, destruction—and to consider these deaths not as meaningless casualties but as part of a broader ecological and spiritual narrative. The poem does not romanticize death, but it refuses to let it be forgotten. Instead, Snyder treats these animals with dignity, insisting on their continued presence in the world even after their bodies have been struck down.
| Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER THE GENTLE POET KOBAYASHI ISSA by ROBERT HASS INTERRUPTED MEDITATION by ROBERT HASS TWO VIEWS OF BUSON by ROBERT HASS THE FATALIST: HOME by LYN HEJINIAN WRITING IS AN AID TO MEMORY: 17 by LYN HEJINIAN LET US GATHER IN A FLOURISHING WAY by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA IN MICHAEL ROBINS?ÇÖS CLASS MINUS ONE by HICOK. BOB BREADTH. CIRCLE. DESERT. MONARCH. MONTH. WISDOM by JOHN HOLLANDER VARIATIONS: 16 by CONRAD AIKEN UNHOLY SONNET 13 by MARK JARMAN |
|