Poetry & Prose

rabbit heart

I bear an open hand

 & flat palm

I was taught that this was the way 

to carefully coax animals to eat

when they are wary of the smell of people

And it is me

Trying to love me

Scared of the salty smell of sweat and tears

Scared that the hand will be taken away

If it is given so easily

//Can I love a good thing

And let it lie

And have a good pause with it

Until it leaves for greener grass

& sweeter clover