December 6, 2017

Poetry: “Rabbit”

They warned her,
If she dared to go
Against the grain,
Fate would find a fearless way
To spay her shame
Without a blade.

Lost in a fistful of dollar-glades,
Her unkempt soul relays the pain.

Neither hare-fast,
Nor turtle-slow,
She meanders in the mean —
An average of keen sorrows,

Bits of tricks
Fall from her sleeves.
The magician assists
With each near-miss —
“Stick to the script” —
And urges her
To saw herself in half
For a barrel-full
Of belly-laughs.

So she steps inside
The pine-shaved grave,
Says her prayers,
And disappears.

Now you see her,
Now she’s gone.

Rabbit in a hat —


© Jane Bled 2016-2017
All Rights Reserved.

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