hanging a rabbit’s foot

leaves lost

on electric lines

that can be heard

in the summer

with the air condition

and beams of sun

that bake into the darkness

but not tonight

where they land

on quiet

orange and green and ketchup red stems

limp like little feet

of a man hanging

or just a boy

who used to walk

around the neighborhood

but now drives

past the cement

that has filled trees

and the houses of animals

that replaced rabbit holes

with air conditioning

perpetual sun

and pet rabbits

that will try to escape

even if that means

squeezing through a crack

and luckily

losing only a foot

but will always find

another hand

tired from the wheel

that asks

lost little rabbit?

where is your home?

let’s follow the blood back