Two Rabbits and the Moon – August 12


The Cottontail

watched me


a steep hill

to meet her

at the Cross –



She split the stone.

Datura delusions emerge

from this bloodline.

I stumble

down down down…

Her feet beat

a mourning drum

I’m in free fall.


Tropical mist

chokes mountain air.

What force

can annihilate

this hopeless story?


Both Hares

dead – one murdered,

the other abandoned

by the Moon.


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