Today's poem is by Angela Patten

Feeding The Wild Rabbit
        "We carry our homes within us which enables us to fly."
                                                                John Cage

What should I feed the wild rabbit
that has been leaving its scat
in the snow under the birdfeeder?
I saw it sitting still as a garden statue
when I arrived home yesterday at dusk.

Last week the rechargeable bulb
of the amaryllis, banished to a shelf
in the back of the garage,
sprang to life and threw out first
one green shoot and then another.

Do animals dream of the coming light
in their lairs beneath the snow?
I dream constantly of homelessness.
Something is preventing me
from entering those places I once lived,
all doors locked against me.

Once there was a room whose only light
came from a glowing fire where all
the crisscrossed bones of my ancestors
burned like kindling and their strange
elongated shadows leaped the walls.

For two nights now I have dreamed
of skating barefoot on a river
covered with a skiff of snow.
On either side the trees and bushes
look like lavish wedding gowns
adorned with lace. My feet glide
effortlessly over the ice. No fear
of falling, no searching for
safe harbor. Just this flying.

Copyright © 2025 Angela Patten All rights reserved
from Feeding the Wild Rabbit
Kelsay Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission