Watermark

Thursday Poetry: Rabbits & People

Rabbit and Thing
Illustration uploaded by erat

The Neighbors Debate

When discovered by the social worker,
the yellow rabbit was nibbling blooming
dandelions, violets and clover
on the neighbor's lawn. The circling

cats did not disturb it. The rabbit hopped
up to the cats and touched twitchy noses.
The cats dashed, lickety-split, and dropped
back into hunting-jungle-tiger poses.

The neighbors schemed. Caught and caged,
unperturbed, the rabbit washed its face.
The prison guard said "Let it go."  "Not wild,"
the social worker warned. "And think, the child

who lost it, crying all night," the day-care
worker sighed. The rabbit combed its hair.

[ Poem by SB ]

 

  This week's prompt was:

What do you see when you look at animals? A reflection of yourself? A resource to be used? A kindred part of God's creation? A bundle of physiology and biochemistry?

As it happens, I had this sonnet tucked away on just this topic, and a quick flickr search found the perfect illustration. Some of you have seen this poem before, but it is too perfect for the prompt for me to not post it.

I liked the suggestion of other animals in the graphic, and its sense of confusion; that the viewer must impose her own interpretation upon it. As we do with the other animals, seeing in them both ourselves, and the other.

My Poetic Statement

This is a repost from May 2006. I'm posting it today in response to thegirlwho's challenge at fertile ground to Write your poetic statement.  Yesterday's snapshot poem was also inspired by this prompt, and is a poetic statment of a sort.

   

b. asks [in response to The Blue Bed]:

how do you keep this up? do you wear poet's glasses all the time, or simply put them on like mr peabody from bullwinkle when you want to do this thing you do?

Ah, yes -- those poet's glasses. So attractive.

Good question, though. What is this thing I do? I don't just sit down and write a poem; it requires an ongoing practice of attention; a willingness to be boring, to be trivial, to be mundane.

It's like prayer, or my understanding of prayer -- not a solicitation, but an acknowledgement of how it is: this hurts, this is beautiful, I am afraid.