We are walking.

We both see a dead rabbit in the road.

I exclaim and want to move it,

you step in first.


You step in

and kick it to the kerb,

I hurt.


You pick it up by the tale,

fingers protected in a plastic bag,

and let the dogs sniff it

as you swing it around.

I hurt.


You drop it in grass,

it lands awkwardly.

I hurt.


I bend,

smooth it,

stroke it,

it is warm,


it’s life feels close by.

I whisper thanks for it,

tell it to go,

tell it I am here,

that I see,

that I value,

that I care.


You stand and watch.


You see a dead rabbit in the road.

I see life in its precious, connected, dying beauty.


We live in two worlds.

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Thanks for being here.