I watch the rabbits in the winter
from my window in the night
moving and stopping
blending with
becoming
snow and cement
stopping-starting-listening
I raise my glass to the rabbit like he has a clue
as if he'd raise one back if he had the chance
but he has no need to drink
no need to know
no need to think
how I admire the lonesome rabbits
moving in the winter
surviving out of sight