Rabbit came down from the moon
and entered my life with a vengeance.
A cosmic kick-in-the-butt
delivered by strong Jack-rabbit thighs,
sent me flying, head-over-posterior,
across the landscape of my psyche.
Even in the midst
of stomach floating
flip-flops, I saw clearly
how my shadow,
tumbling overhead,
should send me
racing towards a burrow,
I froze instead;
quivering nose
my sole response
to imminent disaster.
So Rabbit lent
a leveret-skin; soft give-away
of babies’ bunting, meant
to line moccasins and lie fuzzy
along the soft contours
of school-girls.
Disguised,
I danced to March’s mad fandango,
leapt high beneath a Harvest moon
and browsed sweetly on the dew-freshed
Brussels sprouts of Mr. Mc Gregor, forgetting
my fears till his dog Pluto drove me
down a rabbit hole.
Trapped within the Earth’s dim warren,
my ego abdicated, leaving behind
its creature heart whose animal eyes
descried a hidden message
among an emblematic mass
of hieroglyphic roots. Intent
upon unearthing that charactery, I
followed my nose into the briar patch, where
seduced by Luna’s luminescent glow,
I left behind the thorn-entangled fur,
sprang upward to embrace the Moon
and found myself.
©2000 Christine Irving