Vixen

It could not feel the vixen's stare,

The rabbit grazing, unaware.

It could not see her crouching form,

No movement there to forewarn.

Tensed muscle, ready, rapt.

A blur, a squeal, a neck snapped.

The limp rabbit, bleeding, dead.

There are cubs waiting to be fed.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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December 5, 2016 at 3:38 PM
The circle of life...graphic but wonderfully done
Smith Avatar
December 5, 2016 at 3:40 PM
Thank you Chris.
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December 5, 2016 at 3:11 PM
Oh, so sad Gary. Graphic powerful write!
Smith Avatar
December 5, 2016 at 3:14 PM
Thank you Heidi. :)
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