Baby Bunnies

While picking tulips yesterday,
a grassy nest found, newly-made;
filled with bunnies blind and small
who quivered in their hole, afraid.

They wiggled, squiggled, warm and tender,
wanting nothing more than a mother;
such tiny, funny, furry bunnies that I
barely could just leave them down there.

Their hole was deep, a silent keep
for creatures hid beneath our tree;
the tangled grass their cover masked
amid the flowers and mossy peat.

They quake at passing cars and trucks,
can’t escape the cold spring slush;
they risk the nosey neighbor mutt,
they risk my little sister’s clutch.

first published in FLOOR OF THE SKY Chapbook

also published in AllPoetry.com