Three little rabbits leaping sleek
And fast by the underpass, warm
bodied and fur slicked back still wet
From mother’s tongue. My sweet
babies, she thinks and blinks
Her soft black eyes until she dies
Between steaming hot teeth.
Two little rabbits with plenty to eat
And the grass nibbled neatly, sweetly
to the roots not a blade goes to waste.
Out comes a light in the night oh it’s bright
So now one little rabbit in the grass by the
Underpass. But now she is cold no-one to hold
Or play with. The last little rabbit did I pass
On the bike path with her eyes straight ahead
She’ll be dead no doubt by the morning.