Yesterday this creature pranced here & there,
laughed , played
( romped about on the grass )
enjoyed the sun , the dandelions
- unseeing & unknowing waited
till the man with the gun , stalking him warily
had arrived.

BANG.      He lay there ( all the light
had gone out of his eyes )

It's entirely his own fault   he - the rabbit - shouldn't
have frolicked & fooled
  should have quickly looked up
jerked his tail          hung out a flag
warned his friends          by his friends been warned
( watched the shadow of the gun on the ground )
& quicker than sound or the flash in the barrel
run like the devil !


What on earth can one say about the fun - fascination – of killing? Or the simple happiness of being alive? Or the quick glaze which comes over eyes suddenly dead? The silly ass, warned by his instinctive understanding of his situation, should have run like the devil.