The Graffiti said “Bunny”
So we weren’t so surprised
when one stretched out
of the shadow of the tagged sign,
as in Elizabeth’s “Armadillo,”
short-eared, but unlit, dun.
A dollop of mud dried
on a hem of some khaki drab,
uncreasing itself unceasing
along the curb, scared to cross.
No inscape to its clay coat,
dull replicant of a billion
bunny others, and yet,
the whole sky clamped down
on the ears’ unsure twitch.
Its skitter the story of generations.
There is a perfect worth
in the soft sketch and pant,
the noteless noted.
Whole mythologies flex brave
and bolt at apt intersections.
____________________
Anthony Rintala