The Rabbit On His Birthday

Born aloft by an unseen force,
the fleshy cloak squirms
as my soul soars.

I am remembering the words of my weathered friend

“There is more to life than turning green grass into
little brown pellets.”

Now I see and tremble.

A moment ago I was a timid creature,
tentatively confident in my powers of ear, nose and haunch.
I had edged out from the shadows and into the clover.

Now, mind is swallowed
by awe

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem