Life, fleet like a rabbits foot

dashing across the downs

feather light, barely touching the ground,

a slight ripple

through the air

 marks its passing

 

Fever, fleet like a rabbits foot

dashes down the spine

ripples through the liver

burrows in your spleen,

lost in the warren

of your intestines

a slight ripple

through the air

 marks it passing

 

Death, fleet like a rabbits foot

whispers ear to ear

caught looks hooked

to hook

Fighting moments

thrashing bodies

quick hot and gone

to another

 

Fleet like a rabbits foot

our moments

our moment

Fleet like a rabbits foot

n

gone

Is time like ripe fruit

just right now.

lived,eaten,enjoyed

if taken

straight from the tree,

juice dribbling down

your chin,

experienced there and then

No planning, watching contemplating

missing the opportunity

as it turns sour,

bad to the bite.

Guilt, regret, loss.

The Fruit only stays

ripe in the moment

and for that

Knowledge

paradise was lost,

not temptation

or sin

that was

just reason

for an old

parsons

guilt