Fluffle

Well before the day wakes

I follow tracks across the front yard,

paw prints back and forth

create a trail over snowbanks

onto mine and neighbours property.

The o so familiar pattern broken

by dropped berries makes me smile,

already aware of the den under the veranda,

yet I worry for them as I’ve seen their enemies

seeking substance before light of day.

In darkness I leave for work

the cars headlights shine on movement

hopping across the street

not one, not two, but three!

the fluffle of bunnies are alive and well.