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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. ]