About the name of the blog

The Evening Rabbit Report

It is my folly (will always be folly)
to believe that someone would wait
a winter, wait out day, just to hear
The Evening Rabbit Report—

a report that has as much to do
with other neighborhood creatures—
herons, hawks, fish and frogs, turtles,
groundhogs—as it has to do with rabbits.

Four rabbits sighted at dusk
on the first night in early March
when light lingered beyond dinnertime
to grant a girl an evening walk—

a girl who, as she sighs
endless whys to the darkness,
bids adieu to the lake, allows
that they be—to persuade
her, stay awhile, postpone
the sadness found in endings.

The geese knew days ago
that tonight’s walk would yield
the year’s first Evening Rabbit Report
and so splashed, chased
each other with fanfare, insisted
they be counted, and with their display
proved they deserve a mention.

The report, therefore, logs six
pair of geese, two ducks, one blue jay;
notes:  fish not biting, too chilly for bugs;
asks:  where hide February’s cardinals?

And as for rabbits:  five,
if you count the one
spotted on the return—one
who might have been counted
on the journey out—you can
never be sure when dealing with rabbits.

Of what I am sure:
it was my folly to believe
that someone might be you
that you might be interested
in the on-goings of rabbits or in
the goings-on of a neighborhood girl.

(C) jam, circa 2003-ish


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