To Toss a Dead Bunny In The Woods

Oct. 2017

You dangled from my laytex glove
Prey above dogs
Held sturdy by the chest
Gentle

Playful beasts they were, barking.
TOY! MEAL!
FOOD!
They couldn't see how terrified you were of their instinct to howl.
I foot them inside the rickety screen door.

I agreed to toss you in the woods.
expected a cleaning job.
Extracting a cold still object from her sisters cage.

You looked at me.
I wanted to look you in the eyes
before I did it.
And You looked at me.
Stretched out your legs

We laid down together
Sun cooked the wooden porch beneath our bodies
desperate to learn everything like fresh fall season lovers.

You moved when I touched you.
Like my attention gave you an extra moment

You didn't seem to breath

I offered a carrot.
Meek. You used what life was left in you to open your mouth.
You hadn't the strength to chew.

I was too optimistic.
I know now.
When I broke the tiniest peice of carrot free
placed it in your mouth.
You hadn't the strength to swallow

But you were breathing heavy now

I felt like god.
A human god.
Selfish even now in the giving of life
How happy your mother will be
How powerful I will look
Deciding which creatures live.
And die.

I shoved the bit of carrot
with a medical pinky finger.
You took three large gasps for air

I Dropped my godly optimism in a grey plastic bag on the desperate table of three worried pet doctors.
Embarrassed for me, they ask us to leave

You already had.

At a field of uncut hay.
Same laytex glove.
Same grey plastic bag
Same executioners guilt.

My guardian angels curiosity and risk slapped my greed with icarus wings.

I cried.
threw you like a baseball into the sunset.
Cars pulled wind behind us while I stared.

How like me to give my full curiosity to what is known to die soon.
How greedy I am to try and bring it back
Risk shoving my hand down its throat to chase a miracle that looks
to you
like charity
for the praise,
then abandon it when I discover
the treasure comes with its own ghosts.

I pull down another sunset.
Fast.
Like curtains on a stage

Nicholas M. Coulombe
Pownal, ME