It’s hard to move without scaring the rabbit
nibbling in the dusk, fur blurring into grass. The air’s so still
you can almost feel the mountains
settling into blank black mass, cabbage heads tightening
among drought cracks.
The kids are in, windows lit.
The rabbit drags thoughtful haunches
across lawn and clover. Dusk settles
like the shadow of a hawk.
Time to nibble, time to breathe.
It won’t be long.