My First Rabbit

I still see the hot sun,
shining pink and clear
through the wary red-veined ear
of my first rabbit on the run.

He stopped in dreadful fear
too close to breathe, 
under the old oak tree.  

Just him and me.

But I was unmanned
by the delicacy,

the impossible perfection
of his badly frightened tiny hairs
bending quietly, 
and soft as silk  
in that gentle breeze. 

I just hope God is aware,

it was my heart alone   
that drove him to his lair.