Sudden, sharp and sinister
the cry: a baby scalded
could shriek no greater agony
than this rabbit, stoat-crazed.
The scene we know, long before
the struggle stills, fierce eyes
hurling daggers of defiance as,
unseen, teeth look at last on life force
and slowly still the frantic flailing legs.
For we know the singular intensity,
deep, incisive, that sent one maddened
knocking against our legs, as we stood
tree-still, hearing that same shrill agony,
seeing the hunter flowing afer, rippling
raw death, smooth as golden honey.
Another, flattened on a road,
next to its prey, was besotted
by the lust of gushing blood
hearing too late the other roar.
And slowly, twisting into twine,
they dance on the keeper's tree,
mocked their power, into ages of
green-ness, hollowed husks and hoary
nothingness: except that one remains
one truth is constant, indisputable,
their teeth still clenched, defiant,
their jaws locked, never to release,
biting into the very heart of death.
Richard Stewart