After a Kindred Spirit of “Forgotten Lore”
Once upon a midday gleaming, as the sun perched, eager-seeming,
O’er my lonely homestead’s weedy
patches of forgotten sod,
Whilst I sighed, wondrous with gloom, the murk did so severely loom,
As on the earth’s untidy flora
a small, grayish rabbit gnawed.
“’Tis a visitor!” I exclaimed, “which must have traveled from abroad!”
I quivered, keen with interest,
though ‘twas not expressly odd…
Well, distinctly I don’t recall––was it spring? Or maybe fall?––
For the crude terrain about me
lacked in features to enthrall.
Yet my senses stirred anew (for once, a feeling wriggled through)!
And my fears were all laid bare,
each a stain upon my wall!
‘Twas but a moment’s peace I’d sought, but remorse was now my lot,
Isolated in this refuge
so unwittingly I’d wrought…
And the rabbit, on grasses chewing––my soul eschewing––was my undoing––,
As vain attempts at wooing it hither
were more pitiful than not.
So, still, I sit here, stewing, my years accruing (they keep accruing),
While with each new day ensuing,
the sun pierces ever through:
With this craving, quite unnerving, I remain yet undeserving
Of even one, small, savory serving
of Hasenpfeffer stew…
Whether doe or buck, I’m sure, my friend will never reach my door.
Though I with doleful tears implore (writhing, prostrate, on the floor),
I shall hunger, evermore!