Little white hare,
sitting in the brush.
Perfectly aware
life is never just.
Nibble on the shoots,
and run when you must.
You look just like the snow
came alive in a rush.
Little white hare,
you take in the air.
Ears hear everything,
here and everywhere.
They say that you can run
from where the living dare
to where the dead walk,
in the sky and in the air.
Little white hare,
so close to the Earth.
A half a step from death
since the moment of your birth.
Litter of so many,
of which you were the first.
Quicker than your sisters
and your brothers,
but your curse,
is to be hunted
for the purpose that you serve.
DJR – 2023
