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On a flurried Spring morning,

a mountain morning

cruising down the Star Route,

movement caught my eye in the drainage ditch ahead.

A rabbit, flailing, strained.

My heart instantly knew.

I stopped the Chevy

and like a hero

sprinted down the pavement to the wounded creature,

ribbons of red flesh revealing themselves under soft tawny fur.

She pulled herself up the hill to escape me

leg dragging loosely behind her.

“I’m so sorry.”

She looked at me, black marble eyes asking, pleading

“I am scared. Of you and of what’s to come”

Standing in the road

gazing into myself

I dreamt of the darkness of the coming night.

I dreamt of the wounded rabbit,

hiding in bare, sleeping brambles

waiting for relief.

An offering to winter-starved coyotes.

Milk for a den of new pups.


© Megan Paska, 2018

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