A Rabbits’ Place

Upon a throne of sleet and stone,
A mighty king: sinew and bone.
He dreamed a dream (if beast do dream)
Of something known and something seen…

…A rabbit in a field at night,
A sorry place to hide from sight.
Such naïve prey knows not its place
Of flesh and blood for beast to chase.

And from the depths of delicious slumber,
This regal beast did surely mutter;

“I scowl that you should quiver
And I snap to see you squirm,
I’ll torment you forever
As the blue-jay does the worm.”

“So fear me, timid rabbit,
That you live to tend my feast,
Your free to die, you meager shrew,
I’ll toy with you in hell.”

And thus a song of prey and beast,
The prey who live shall live the least.