killing fields
Rabbits and hares
The curse of humanity
to bear thy sick art
limp rabbit’s in fields
i so cry displeasure in thee
to live in thy plain
little that remains
no more bunny lanes
thee shall be sick
to the lasting noose
down the misty lane
try shelter in rushes
hide in the bushes
whistling over thy head
it’s. a cold water shed
water thee down
sport of dewy dawn
winding river i wait
hails firing shots
to a ruffians sick aim
i thee mourns hares fate
rabbit stew on a plate
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