long after NASA had been sold for scrap.
"Bunny," I said, finding him there,
"you must be hungry,
coming from such a barren garden
so sparse of leaf and short of air."
I have a dusty hope chest
down a dusty stair
as dusty gray as the moonlit coat
of my silver-silent friend, the hare.
Moon Rabbit seemed
to like my hair
and made a red-spun warren there
where moon can light and moon can find
his loneliness and mine--entwined.
_______
for Sunday Muse #103
Gah! This is so good! I love the dusty hope chest down the dusty stair. The name Moon Rabbit and the loneliness entwined - wonderful.
ReplyDeleteMaybe the Dark Side of the Moon is where the rabbits went after Watership down and when Pink Floyd broke up. All of what we thought were craters are warrens? I like the deft touch of "moon can light and moon can find", and how lonely a moon rabbit (and poet) must be.
ReplyDeleteOh how I love this poetic rabbit tale Shay! Magical,from moon to dusty chest and stair!
ReplyDeleteThe moon rabbit is mythical, so I am sure he might have a bit of magic...what is in the dusty hope chest? All the dreams that slipped past earth to the dark side of the moon.
ReplyDeleteDark side of the moon and bunny rabbits a match made in the Milky Way. Might we know one day? (Cat Stevens and Moonshadow in my brain now!) Desperate enough to watch the repeat of last year's Masters.
ReplyDeleteWe find companionship in fable and rhyme. Moon rabbit, moon lit, moon found.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this particular Joplin.
Both elegant and lovely...and it reminded me of the rabbits we used to see in the field beyond the hotel when visiting Apollcon.
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful, well written rabbit tale.
ReplyDeleteThis is very beautiful. I especially love the musicality of the second stanza.
ReplyDeleteOh yes, the little 'bit of fluff" you mentioned. *clutches hair* I only wish I could fluff around like this. The rhyme is so right here, and the gentleness of living things is drawn with a loving, careful hand that knows their worth.No matter what moons we make them ride still they come back with comfort,a kind of fractured wholeness, and indeed, the gladly given company of what knows our own solitude. Such a pleasure to read this.
ReplyDeleteYou have the soul of a poet, my friend, and your words are always magic. This time you've done it again!
ReplyDeleteAs magical as a golden fairytale. Precious Moon rabbit.
ReplyDelete