Rabbit
By: Ezekiel Gonzales
With the bang from his gun,
I run, run, run
I can’t help but shield from the sun
He’ll get by—whatever means deemed necessary
Here, there, wherever
I am but target practice to the watchful eye
Deep, steep
The ground beneath
It all is too much
With the bang, bang, bang from his dusty little gun
I won’t stop; I’ll run, run, run
As long as the sun still shines, it all will be fine
Hop, hop, hop
Bounding down, bending to the right, bending to the left
It echoes from here to there
Dingy little thing
Metal pebbles and sticky red sweat
He has too much fun, fun, fun
Stick and poke, the edge of the branch
Skimming my skin
I have to run, run, run
No shelter from him, he has to feed
A meal fit for a king
