Rabbits Poem by Tan Pratonix

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.