A tall, black top hat spins and rolls to my feet,
toppled off the head of a mysterious man rushing down the street.
I don’t dare pick it up
paralyzed by fear
of what might be inside.

I never did trust rabbits
with their long, floppy ears
and fluffy puff tails, too cute for their own good.
Why would something so soft and cuddly be inside
a stiff beaver felt, chimney pot hat?

I slowly step away,
intending to go around
but a rabbit appears
even without my touch.
White fur matted,
twitching whiskers twitching,
pale pink eyes impassive.

My heart skips a beat
and my breath grows shallow, fear rises.
I turn my back,
the rabbit follows.
The top hat lay forlorn on its side.
Another rabbit appears.
Then another.
They multiply like rabbits do!
My time is up.
Lagomorphs are out to get me.


Dark morning
single star wavering
alone in sky

no sunrise promise on horizon

Dark buildings
stand impassive
skeleton towers
waiting to come to life

Dark absorbs thoughts
hides goals
hides dreams
Self walks away
layers peel off
then another
onion skin transparencies

Strong urge to chase after them
bring back these diaphanous apparitions
but curiosity wins
need to know meaning of layers
these beautifully fragile layers

Sky remains dark
single star blinks
layers have gone
mystery remains

Inside dark building
shower stings
water beads pelt
raw form
no promise of sunrise
on horizon