Rabbit, Dead

The first time I saw him,
he looked at me sideways.
"I see you are running,"
he said by his manner;
"I'll show you some running."

With feet really fingers
he practiced some capers
displaying his form
like compulsory figures,
then danced to the distance,

the arrogant bastard.

Now he lies quiet,
not trampled or eaten,
exactly as lovely,
except where the flies
have been making their quarry,

(those are holes
that were his eyes)

and never a quiver
betrays an intention
of anymore running.