The Quivering Rabbit

The quivering Rabbit lies upon the cold frozen ground Ground of thorn thickets cockleburs and tall sun dried sage brown The hidden openings rocky places it had played its escape The hounds of death had chased it from these it thought safe It had prior since run for its life from such numerous hounds Each experience taught it that life won- is a daily round But the older and wiser the rabbit became The fatter and slower- thus the hounds did gain Tattered flesh its hairs viewed plucked with red stains abound The dogs of death have ceased their chasing madding sound For this now dying rabbit- its death now does face The quivering rabbit does pay for its mistakes Breath the struggle- breath the riddled body desires Breath of the last- till there is breath no more The quivering rabbit stills upon the cold frozen ground By Mark A. Goodson