The Fly
The watchful life in the still rabbit’s eye
Meets mine.
Transfixed, We stand frozen
Waiting for the other’s
First move.
The fly leaves the rabbit’s eye,
And suddenly
The rabbit is dead.
[Unusually, this one has a title. The first stanza, with a very slight variation, was originally a complete walking poem, captured in suspense as the rabbit and I encountered one another. See Walking Poem 2018-09-26 The Fly. The second stanza is a subsequent attempt to capture What Happened Next. ]