The Blue Moon Review

Counting Rabbits

by Taylor Graham


The spring of rabbit haunches
lasts through fall, no matter
the bucks you grind into sausage,
the soft young does you dress
for stew.  Still, there will be
rabbit ears to tweak your dreams,
rabbit tails twitching you awake.

Rabbit never leaves the print
of his lucky feet, just the nick
of one famished tooth
that ate your garden.