Hares
New born, the leveret hunkers down,
this shallow grassy form its only refuge.
From the field gate — one careless step away —
it faces lowering skies and April deluge.
Furred and mobile, leverets grow up fast —
once an evening visit from their mothers;
soon eating grasses, weaned in thirty days
for a secret life mostly under cover.
Elusive moon-gazers, meditators,
solitary envoys on the run;
they make shy pets — highly strung, evasive —
Cowper kept three hares, Boudica had one.
Seen from the train, in a distant pasture,
a Lepus convocation set to scare:
these witches’ familiars and shapeshifters…
Was that a coven or some circled hares?
Patrick B. Osada recently retired after ten years on SOUTH Poetry Magazine’s Management Team and as the Magazine’s Reviews Editor. He has published seven collections, From The Family Album was launched in October 2020.