Said the Rabbit To the Falcon

SAID THE RABBIT TO THE FALCON ****************. Aug. 31, 2020 Oh, falcon, why are you scowling? As you are Heraldic, so majestic flying beneath the clouds, Why do I stir you so? I am but a countryside rabbit. Surely, it’s not because of our mouths? For Mine is a plain, pink cross; yet Yours has the contour artists admire as Showing a form to meet intent in an exquisite arc. And, it can’t be our ears, because mine Are whimsical, admired for their flop, Alert to the ground, while Yours can hear the tiniest of mice lick a toe. And, of course, it’s not our speed: I might be thought languishing, taking Often merely nearly a yard with each leap, while You will swoop and consume in the half-instant Another just like me has half-blinked! Perhaps, your sharpened glare shoots at Me, because you need always hunt or seek, Dreading any rest that may find You imperfect...thus, hungry; Still, I may eat along any garden’s row Or even on a tasty weed while half-asleep. (Please note, voracious falcon, that I said, ‘half-asleep.’) If...if only God had made you To crave lettuce, happy, simply, in the garden... ******************. ***************** (C) Sally Young Eslinger 2020