Zoologist Rabbit

Tonight, the air is green with clover, hay,and little clumps of grasses on the breeze,unsettled dirt, the dusty mysteriesof rabbits tunnelling the dark. They strayinto the meadow, sniff the wind—bouquetof violets. They hop in twos and threes, their shadows cotton-tailed. Or else they freeze when something feathered screeches far away.They stand like tufted stones. But now the nightgoes soft and jasmine-sweet again. A scentof petals presses to their fur. There’s fruitto eat. There is the skittering delight of digging into earth, the sedimentof dreams perfumed with carrot-top and root. – Jehanne Dubrow