Tan Pratonix - Rabbits

At the mouth of the river where tall grasses grow,
Where no hunter hunts with hounds nor bugles blow,
Where the carefreeness of life lets rabbits roll -
My thoughts go scampering softly down a rabbit hole.

And there they crouch where one with silver knife
Prods them into submissive shape and waits
To cut the gay blue carefreeness of life
Into a vicious haze of pain and hate.

Then with smiling red eyes and silver teeth they go,
My thoughts, to where the tall green grasses grow;
And hurling forward with a savage scream
They shock the rabbits from their rolling dream.

A flurry of frightened faces in the river:
My thoughts are mad with red and silver teeth,
And mad as frightened faces shiver
And swirl toward their sudden death.

Tan Pratonix

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