Robert's Realm of Redundancy
Midnight
Home
Links
Books
Stories
Contact
Pictures
Poetry Page
Opinions

Midnight

Almost home,

Something in the road,

Moving,

In the headlights now,

A rabbit,

On my street,

In the middle of the road,

The way home is blocked.

It sits,

It stares,

It simply does not move.

Forced to wait,

I watch the rabbit.

Do I honk?

Do I inch forward?

Do I do nothing? Why wont it move?

Does it not care?

Does it not understand?

Has it become desensitized?

Desensitized to civilization?

Desensitized to cars?

Desensitized to caution?

Finally,

A twitch,

A slight use of leg muscle,

The source of my confusion moves,

Reaches bushes beyond the asphalt river,

Swallowed by the night.

The path home is clear

For me

And the rabbit.