I remember asking you
was it a coyote
but I knew he would have taken you
I came closer
you couldn’t run
I nudged you
there was no blood
your ears laid back
and I stroked that soft inner space
between my fingers.
I never thought
the wildness in you
would ever let me hold you
but there we sat a while
you in my lap
I felt the length of you
no breaks
and no leaping away in pain.
It was early spring
I remember a racing under your ribs
your chest rising in quick half breaths
the shed door swinging
in the March wind.
Did you get in there
find something
as I pondered
the rage of every argument
unresolved
stuff to kill still in the shed?
Your eyes opened
as if to see if I was still there
and mine closed
as if shutting out the world
could make it go away
or help you stay in it.
This is Your Poem, Rabbit
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