I shadowgraphed with knuckled hand

a rabbit on the painted wall.

I produced nose wrinkling ... hopping ...

all that rabbits do ...

until ...

sharp rapping at my door, sent scampering

to a dingy mental burrow,

my delightful friend to wait there

for some afternoon when sunlight

once again makes beckoning meadow

of my otherwise gray walls

and unlimbers that squelched rabbit

harboring hops within us all.

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.