The Rabbit

Bitter cold greats my morning commute

Crystalline branches bow a salute

Angry soil yearns for bare feet

Longing to feel sweet summer heat

 

Headlights reveal something ahead

A tiny object, living or dead

Piece of brown paper or tree bark perhaps

With realization, my heart in collapse

 

Source of this movement now I do see

Burning red eyes pleading with me

Don’t leave me here to suffer this fate

My pain and my fear you now must abate

 

The soft dullen thud felt to my core

Compassion can be such a wicked old chore

No further pain nor frost-bitten chill

Such was his life, a cold bitter pill

 

A  poor rabbit’s tale of pain and of fear?

Or wicked reflection in my morning mirror?

The answer is there for all who will see

For I am the rabbit, the rabbit is me

8 thoughts on “The Rabbit

  1. Thought provoking. I have seen road kill before – I can see identifying with it. I have felt like it. If it is still alive, I will – I have tried to save it. I can see this as a metaphor for helping others but not myself.

    Liked by 1 person

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