Rabbit
It sat still watching.
Then a dash, as it saw me
– that damned rabbit.
How, where, had it breached my defences
to eat my veg
to reduce my broccoli to stalks
my leeks to the ground.
I was approaching the village.
It sat still watching.
Then a dash this way then that.
Clunk.
The rear mirror showed it
dead.
I felt bad
to have taken life
– that life of my foe
a foe with fur soft to touch
whose relations had been our pets
to care for
and yes feed.
I am not a lord over creatures
but one myself
with foes and favourites
having a prehistory
of being predator and prey
with no soft fur.
I desire peace and prosperity
but am bound by an instinct
to control
to survive
beyond what is good.
When the resurrection comes
how will I be
with the Easter bunny?
Copyright © Lisle Ryder | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment