Spring Hare Poems

The cream esteem my winter coat,
a mink nearby agrees,
temptation wiles beyond the gloat,
a warming gentle breeze.

The juggernaut that Arctic blinds,
the absence of my food,
of barks...

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She settles into her depression
achieves her perfect form 
in flat still camouflage

The dim farmer cannot know
how she surveys his labours
behind beaded spider webs

The fox and...

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Mad March hares box in morning light
along with golden trumpet blooms
another part of Spring’s delight
the threat of snow no longer looms.

Among wheatfield's sunlit bales
mad March...

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In open country
chances are he'll be running.

Knowing the sound of every wind-shift
he'll cradle his life in the rock-a-bye cornsticks
hind legs bunched for the big bolt...

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