Hare

Hare says Moon but Moon
won't answer. Hare twitches.

Overhead darkness. Moon peers
down at the blues and greens:

scuffle, darken, fade, fade to black.
Everything's shutting down now.

Moon says where am I?

Hare rolls its eyes at circling
lights. Hare trembles. Even

the light will grow weary.
Moon all alone bleeds out

a reddish wake of grief. Moon
says I never mean to leave you.

Hare says no. Tremors from
the treacherous undergrowth.

Says, I know I know I—no.

Copyright © 2009 Joseph Campana All rights reserved
from Colorado Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission