The Hare

February 18, 2009
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And I look at the Hare
Through the cold, dark Mirror.
He gestures to me,
And I want to be free
From this. A new Spring
Is close to sprouting
As the Hare
Takes me down to his lare
For a nap. Then suddenly,
Almost too indredulously,
Up from the earth,
From that confining hearth
And into sunlight;
A new creature is about to take flight.

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