Eight years old
the little girl skips
to the garden
to feed the rabbit.
“Georgie is cold!”
Her heart grows old,
she learns of death
and the stopping of breath
and heat,
The little rabbit’s feet
are ugly now
and frightening to
behold.
Not in heaven
but buried under soil
I saw you lift him with the
*****.
It looked undignified
soft fur (enclosed)
in mud,
and then you patted it down
like you would a pet
and thought I would
forget.

In vintage shops
little rabbit feet once used for dusting, dainty women
hang.
They sway like leaves.

Paw prints on cheeks,
the blood has turned to pink powder.