One paw touched a cold kerbstone. I thought she was a jill. Her form too feminine for a jack. Against the wet tarmac I saw long ears with black tips, longer hind legs, distinguishing her from a rabbit. The fur on her back was dense, brown and grizzled, yellow colouration on her flanks led to a soft white underbelly. Maybe she was a witch? Her eyes were still open; startled as they searched for the moon.
The Anatomy of a Hare
3 thoughts on “The Anatomy of a Hare”
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The closing line is sadness wrapped in beauty. 🙂
Thank you, Terveen. I was interested to find that link between hares and witchcraft. I appreciate you taking time out to read and comment 😊