Tuesday, June 16, 2009


Under the close twigs
near the roots
of a buck-brush bush,
with tightly wrapped buds
waiting to bring forth gray green leaves
and deep red, tasteless berries—
in dark, dry grass
and a down lined funnel—
No moves
No sounds
No smells—
lie baby bunnies
waiting to grow into
their given place on the
cycle of life
some will be eaten
by hungry, growing predators—
who also must take their place—
others go forth to multiply
as the way of Nature

Marsha Salerno
April 2009

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