Friday, February 21, 2020

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.


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