Poetry, Part Twenty-six

I arrived at one LCF one day while there was a commotion within the fenced area. After we parked the vehicle, I got out and was told that the site security police were cornering a rabbit that had gotten inside the fence and could not get back out. They were trying to kill it for supper with rocks lying around.

I was disgusted but did not know what to do to stop them from needlessly tormenting an obviously terrified animal. But I quickly saw that they had already hit it and one of its front legs was noticeably broken even though it was running at top speed to get away on that now-destroyed limb. Crushed at their insensitivity, their cruelty, I turned away and walked inside but remained bothered by the entire incident during the whole of that alert. It bothers me still, all these years later.

Trapping Animals

Never see the end.
But still it will shatter as I imagine,
like a broken limb where it wildly flops
is the fatal loss of flight.

Never that speed anymore.
When it turns to blur and brake
as if twice an image escaping
blurs again.

Siding with beasts
cornered to stone.
Cornering with those unable to see
the tightening zone where we turn.
Knowing I am a part of the rocks
not yet tossed to knock the world off course.
Fusing with the sun
as it turns again.

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