Cottontail Morning
A murder of bunnies
nibble the St. Augustine,
especially the rain-plumped rhizomes,
in the shade cast by my building
while the air is yet cool.
They are sleek and beautiful
and seem utterly unafraid
to occupy the interstitial spaces
of this aging suburban city.
They eye me calmly and munch
their Sunday morning breakfast,
peaceful and oblivious.
nibble the St. Augustine,
especially the rain-plumped rhizomes,
in the shade cast by my building
while the air is yet cool.
They are sleek and beautiful
and seem utterly unafraid
to occupy the interstitial spaces
of this aging suburban city.
They eye me calmly and munch
their Sunday morning breakfast,
peaceful and oblivious.
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Author's Note
Another suburban pastoral
Revised.
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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Delightful
Thank you, Matt.
Peaceful poem.
Thank you, Erika.
Enjoyed very much *
Thank you, Foster.
Thank you, Foster.
Ah, the bunny trail.*
Thank you, Tim.
Love the poem. Don't get the very first image: "murder of bunnies." (I am, after all, ESL). *
Than you, Beate.
It's intended as an ironic take on a murder of crows.
The opening line is well worth the price of admission. Thank you Gary.
Thank you, Larry.