Hare

Trees and shadows on the ground,

The bark of a distant hound,

His handler stood and frowned

and wondered what it found.

 

Inside a bush somewhere

Huddles a small tired hare

Waiting for the hound and his frowning stare

To come and find him there.

 

The hound and his master, they run,

The master holding his gun

He points it and everything’s done,

The hound has had his fun.

 

The hare did not know from whence

Came the screams so loud.

He found survival and patience

In the bush he had found.

Nothing

On the first day

There was nothing.

On the second day

It prevailed.

On the third day

It fought itself.

On the fourth day

Nothing became something

And the something prevailed.

On the fifth day,

It wondered where nothing was.

 

Hiding behind its shell,

Glorifying its former self,

Losing a part of what it became

So it can move mountains

To where it will favorably fly.

 

Where is nothing, it wonders

If nothing was there to be found

Maybe it ran away – it ponders

Maybe its long dead and in the ground:

 

High above the mountain,

Flying between the clouds,

Looking below for something

But there was nothing to be found.