my mother found a tiny bunny on the mound
my dad didn't feel like dealing with it
i went outside and saw it there, flattened to the ground
i hovered slowly to the shed and told my mom to get a bag
paper only, plastic won't work
shivering with sadness i wondered where the mother was.
at that very second, i looked up, and she was there. big right eye, glaring at me.
i tried to whisper that it would be alright. i told her i could help. she ran away in accusing fear. why did that hurt so much?
i jerked the shovel from a tangled mess of rakes and hoes and picks
grudgingly, sadly, cognizant of what happened. a life was lost.
placed the little one in the bag with some grasses. "here's something for you to eat"
i dragged the shovel and my paper coffin across the street to the woods.
no, that hole won't work. not deep enough.
no, not there, someone will dig it up.
here, this will work.
almost proportional to a human grave
placed the bag in the hole.
that stinging feeling you get just before you cry. i didn't kill it. i don't know what happened. i didn't even see it before it died. i just found it there, disgraced by the unnatural filth of a human-built flowerbed. it deserved an eternal resting place.
in the hole, fill the hole.
some rocks over there....i'll use those
i placed rocks over his little memorial. nothing can dig him up while he melts back into earth. that comforts me.
i stood back, said a prayer
why was it so hard to walk away?
why was i so sad?
things shouldn't affect me as much as this does. i just don't understand.
goodbye, little bunny.
on behalf of humanity, i say, "sorry"
sorry for creation that destroys.
sorry that we destroyed you.
what's it to you?