A Dead Rabbit (listening to Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez – Adagio) The warm thump of life and heart Was how it felt to hold one of Paul’s Rabbits, the eyes sought in mine Something that might make connection As it sniffed, the nose like a garlic Opening and then it chewed on the lettuce As gentle as a deer grazes, this a rabbit One of many I knew, then in the walk Nearby, in winter, accompanied by guitar The strings pluck away at a sadness Then jump as if from the back of a horse As the sight of a wild one, its ribs a carcass The eyes robbed of the leap and the frolic In the spring, the bob tail of the summer Evening, stilled by the cold and looted By the crows, or was it the fox, the weasel? One never knows, then the avalanche Of sound, as Rodrigo turns up the mood I look cloudward, and think of this rodent May it find some solace in a constellation That allows for the repetition of its life As maybe a star, a twinkle of the eye of a rabbit.
Posted on: Mon, 26 Jan 2015 11:21:33 +0000
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