Rabbit, Taken Away
Dreaming of wounded birds and you, I was
deep in sleep
When the cries came I floated up
Through dark water to an unwelcome light
Five bleats, anguished and raw
A young rabbit in the clover beneath the window.
Silence.
No scuffle or fight. I hold my breath, waiting for Act II.
Five cries again, but these from high in the air
Halfway down the meadow and fading away
It hangs from curved talons
Borne away into the night
Flying for the first and last time.
In the morning, a single tuft of fur lies in the grass
Too soft to be felt.
I turn it over with my toe
And wonder at a rabbit’s life
The old ones must dread the sudden clutch
Night’s claws, come to take their due.
The young ones: eyes wide with the surprise of it all.
July 12, 2007
Labels: rabbit scream
posted by Julie Zickefoose @ 9:18 AM
14 comments
14 Comments:
First, happy belated birthday to Phoebe! Your tribute to her was beautiful. (You always wow me with your writing, woman.)
Second, what a sad, eloquent poem. Ah, nature...
(PS: I finished reading Sara Gruen's WATER FOR ELEPHANTS yesterday. I think you'd really like it!)
Julie, nature is beautiful but so cruel... Your poem is wonderfully heartfelt.
Oh my, I shouldn't have read this at work, I'm getting all teary eyed. Beautiful poem, but so sad. If only they could be killed quickly without the terror of being flown away. Reading this literally a half hour after I ordered a copy of Watership Down from Amazon.
A beautiful poem, julie. You describe the moment I dread, the high pitched cry, and then the silence. I have often wondered about the single tuft of fur I have found, and now I know.
Truth in your beautiful words--very real.
I've seen our yard rabbit sitting as yours--legs to the side, comfortably, and rolling in the dirt. Thought I had witnessed something very unusual--looks like your bunny has a dirt hole, too?
Do they dirt-bathe for skin parasites?
Oh Julie, what a poignant poem. So very sad, and somehow bittersweet. I like the fact that you added a picture of a beautiful little bunny at the beginning of the entry, as if to pay tribute to all bunnies.
Hey bloggirls,
Sorry for the darkness. Thanks for reading and appreciating the dark stuff too.
Nina, this bunny obliterated a flower bed to roll and scratch in the dust. (And is not the same bunny that got carried away, because this was taken after the Scream). I know that birds dust bathe to control parasites and rather imagine the rabbit is trying to get rid of some fleas here. I love the casual, catlike poses that rabbits strike when they don't know they're being watched.
Julie, a continuation on the dark side. I've been wondering about that beheaded young rabbit I found in my back yard last week. (head was gone) What type of animal would leave it that way? Hawks carry them away. Some have mentioned a great horned owl or a raccoon, but this happened around 3-4 PM. I am so glad I wasn't witness.
'Nature, red in tooth and claw' is not so much 'dark' as just real and natural. The "darkest" (and unnatural) side of Nature probably belongs to we humans...
"Borne away into the night
Flying for the first and last time"... and "eyes wide with the surprise of it all"
...beautiful and moving, as always, Julie.
I'm amazed that you have any beenees around,considering Chet's delight in chasing them.
Dear Mary,
Beheading is a favorite owl tactic. Most of them do it. One guess might be a screech owl, which would be big enough to kill a young rabbit, but not big enough to carry it away. So it would carve off a part it could handle, and return to feed after dark. Having raised a screech owl I can attest that they would not turn down a chance to attack even in broad daylight. Nor, for that matter, would any owl.
Another possible suspect is a weasel. Again, the issue at work is that the predator is capable of killing but not of carrying the whole rabbit away. At the risk of grossing everyone out, brains are the most protein-rich and prized part of the kill, so owls and weasels will try to make sure they
get that part first. A weasel killed rabbit we found in our yard had been beheaded and covered with duff. The weasel was eating more each night, but carefully kicking stuff over the kill to conceal it.
And while I'm at it, beheaded songbirds are sometimes the leavings of common grackles, who have a similar predilection for brains (and are ill-equipped to pluck or carve up the smaller birds they kill).
Dark enough for ya?
Thanks, Cyberthrush, and everybody.
Signing off from the dark side,
JZ
Ahh--the cycle of life. Most evocatively captured in your poem. It is dark, but not as in evil.
Yin/ yang
Light/ darkness
Day/ night
Life/ death
Everything has its balance.
Julie, KGmom is right. Balance.
No weasels or raccoons seen here. I can only guess an owl. Cringe. Thanks for your take on this, Science Chimp.
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