How silly, having kept bunny,
An old, stuffed rabbit,
stitched and mended,
the fabric loved until threadbare and thin.
Oh bunny, never forgotten,
poor flattened rabbit,
perhaps two small hands in size
—just right for a child’s grasp,
especially a child who’d forgotten how to laugh.
How many tears had that priceless rabbit held?
©February 2018, Christina Anne Hawthorne