Sun gone black           Moon gone blood

the prophet speaking metaphorically

no matter fundamentalists

 

This is biblical and literal —

a rabbit munching chickweed

beyond my kitchen window

as I grind my coffee beans

 

Sixty-five springs in this city

I have never seen a rabbit

in the yard       Nor a coyote

like the one I saw down in the gully

underneath the steel and concrete

bridge bearing traffic from the suburbs

rumbling long-haul trucks

from the cargo cranes along the harbor

 

She looked strong and sleek

feasting           I suppose

on rabbits (where there’s one

there’s sure to be a multitude)

 

Progress          in my boyhood

meant dead trout and bass

floating sideways on the surface

of the lake       raw sewage     beaches

closed

 

Now I am uncertain

Are rabbits reassuring             or metaphorical

Do coyotes bide their time until

they howl beneath a blood-red moon