Last night I saw one parked on the speck of turf <br />On the edge of the lane and arrow-wood undergrowth <br />Its fat ears shot out, hoisted and dangling <br />Radar intuition like a pair of wizard cap ice-cream cones <br /> <br />And it stood in my eye line <br />for a sketch of a minute <br />As if caught in the middle <br />of political defection <br />Frozen in silence <br />Like an embarrassed exhibit <br />Piercing thick lenses <br />Of two ebony suns <br />Perched on the cloak <br />Of a strawberry face <br />Captured In the shape <br />of a fishhook heart <br /> <br /> <br />Then suddenly he burst <br />Into a matchstick blur <br />Of hightailing footprints <br />In hazelnut snow <br />That sparkled in the jet lash <br />Of Cotton ball tail <br />That tickled and swindled <br />Into a majestic afterglow <br />Passing as a memory <br />Of this gallant rouge <br /> <br />Only shelter, food and protection are his born plight <br />How wise of him too stay out of Maslow's cruel brew <br />Cute as a gemstone cut out of nature's sweet cloth <br />While I stand contemplating how he'd make a fine stew<br /><br />Kevin Patrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rabbit-4/
