THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

RABBIT IN THE WOODS
Copyright 2013 Gordon Kuhn
All rights reserved.

I.
I am.
I am the rabbit.
I am the rabbit who lived in the woods!
The one whose life was kept hidden in shame,
Whose name was thought once but soon became
Another by a decree oh so most fucking royal,
Whose plan became one loyal to those who reigned
Regardless of the pain and lack of claim
Held by those who stood holy by the first rail
Holy, holy, holy!
Holy blessed art thou
That sensed the stain somehow painted
Amid the soft fur tainted, and thereby named the path
Towards where the box was hidden, buried deep,
Deep within a sleeping soil
A sleeping soil whose very nature
Did recoil
Recoiled, was spoiled, soiled, and perished in the closed in space
And left the world unloved and untraced
Asleep, asleep, I am asleep
In a box hidden buried deep
I am the rabbit in the deep, deep soil,
Apart from the woods, asleep in the soil,
Tucked in a box shut out to hold in my shame.
Their shame and I lie in a box without any name.
I am the rabbit that lived in the woods.
I am the rabbit.
I am.
I.

10/27/2013