SHOOTING RABBITS
Thomas Laverty
It is white now, in our city
and every molecule of me will change
for it. It is like the rabbits who chase
each other around my house, desert when
the snow falls, and return to my lawn
in spring to be made whole again.
I raise the barrel to a floppy ear,
blow a dandelion seed from the sight
and send the hare into places warm
and unfamiliar. I use a bottle of schnapps
as a priest. A marsh hawk uses a maple
to watch us; the human, the hare,
and the birdshot that binds us.