Daisy Pot

I saw you through my window,
I looked down from above.
I saw you spring in freedom
without a thought to wolfish eyes.

With practiced hop and little effort,
you left the ground and settled,
for not too long a stay,
so sweetly in my daisy pot.

You must have known your
errand well, precisely planned,
your sprite decision made, for
too soon you moved away.

I would have lingered to watch
your travels across my garden plot,
but to my own I had to move,
and not nearly with such grace.

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

The rabbits love my garden, and I them. ❤

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