The heat was sterilizing
and we were shouting lyrics
from one song or another
when we saw it;
a dead rabbit lying on the road’s shoulder
We stopped for a minute in mourning
and acknowledged the sadness of the moment.
Another rabbit, standing proudly,
had perched itself not four feet away.
Comically, I pointed and yelled:
You did it, didn’t you?
Almost as if he was in on the joke,
he looked at me for a moment
and bolted off into the darkness,
fading into the night
like our laughter into the humid air.
Not thirty minutes later did the night go sour,
staining the tip of my tongue
and leaving me wishing I had means for correction.
And as I walked home,
stepping lightly in between beads of rain,
rain that hadn’t shown itself for weeks,
I thought of the rabbit.
Lying quietly, whole, intact,
and yet still swallowed by death.
And I wondered who would mourn him
when the sun shown tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment