Today's poem is by Erin Wilson
Orphaned Rabbits
When I speak with my son at his dad's, in Ohio,
But he sends me selfies
Manlet, as he calls himself.
He rescues a bunny from his dad's backyard,
funny world of balancing.
He keeps it for a few short days, in his room,
He sends me static photo after static photo
(Triggered body memory I know his fingers like water.)
One can perceive, even from this distance, a deep
He shares a video of the downy little thing, disoriented.
I convince him to turn it over to wildlife handlers in the
How sick I feel. How powerless. For this. For everything.
In the morning, he wakes to discover it drowned in its water
It seems to me that one must widen (or narrow?)
Over and over I think,
This is what there is.
his voice has changed. He sounds unfamiliar to me, a man.
of such a tender boy.
the mother having been killed in the front yard
by his black cat, Mystery
in a blue Rubbermaid tote, with bedding, food and water.
of just his hand gently passing over the bunny,
so much smaller than his own hand.
trembling.
morning.
dish.
to adopt an animal's sensibility, in order to survive what,
in its strictest sense, seems like a godless world.
There is this.
Or there is nothing.
Tweet
Copyright © 2023 Erin Wilson All rights reserved
from Blue
Circling Rivers
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
Home
Archives
Web Weekly Features
Support Verse Daily
About Verse Daily
FAQs
Submit to Verse Daily
Copyright © 2002-2023 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved