Said the Rabbit To the Falcon
SAID THE RABBIT TO THE FALCON
****************. Aug. 31, 2020
Oh, falcon, why are you scowling? As you are
Heraldic, so majestic flying beneath the clouds,
Why do I stir you so? I am but a countryside rabbit.
Surely, it’s not because of our mouths? For
Mine is a plain, pink cross; yet
Yours has the contour artists admire as
Showing a form to meet intent in an exquisite arc.
And, it can’t be our ears, because mine
Are whimsical, admired for their flop,
Alert to the ground, while
Yours can hear the tiniest of mice lick a toe.
And, of course, it’s not our speed:
I might be thought languishing, taking
Often merely nearly a yard with each leap, while
You will swoop and consume in the half-instant
Another just like me has half-blinked!
Perhaps, your sharpened glare shoots at
Me, because you need always hunt or seek,
Dreading any rest that may find
You imperfect...thus, hungry;
Still, I may eat along any garden’s row
Or even on a tasty weed while half-asleep.
(Please note, voracious falcon,
that I said, ‘half-asleep.’)
If...if only God had made you
To crave lettuce, happy, simply, in the garden...
******************. *****************
(C) Sally Young Eslinger 2020
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