DEAD RABBIT

i found a dead rabbit
in the backyard of my soul

i took a minute to take it in
the sun beating down on the animal
surrounded by flies

and when that too passed
i took a spade and carved a space for it
in the ground

i gave it a funeral
where i remembered its rabbit life:

running across suburban roads
digging underground tunnels
i reminisced about its rabbit lovers
and its abandoned children

and then i put it into the ground
covered it with the earth
and it was gone

i thought about the worms in the ground
feeding on its protein
i thought about how it would decay
and eventually disappear
as would the worms as well
as would my very thought of it
and this funeral
and this notion that my soul is safe from death
when the truth is i am always burying rabbits
in the backyard of my soul
and at night i lay on that familiar patch of dirt
and i count the stars that i will never have to bury

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

1 thought on “DEAD RABBIT”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s