This morning the rabbit in my yard
was further away, less distinct.
His old blood brown eye
and the sun behind him is his alone.
Sure enough, sure sure enough
he is absorbed like milk.
A marble in the mouth, you say,
reverts to seed. Our forebears
stamp their feet, make sandy curses.
The leather of their boots, so dry.
Caleb Cluff
Majorca, VIC.
18/9/07
|