Easter Rabbits

by Al Ortolani  

The dog didn’t return that night,
but I knew she would eventually,
the rabbits too fat and easy to resist.
I opened the bedroom window,
watching until the gray dawn bled
across the sky. My daughters slept.
I reinforced the hutch wire
and nailed another 2 x 4 across
the door. Each time I fed them, I had
to use the claw and pry off the scab
two-by. Their turds no longer escaped
to the pile on the ground. Some
stuck between the layers of mesh
and rubbed off on their feet.
They sat in their crock bowls
and spilled their water. They grew
fat and lazy. One developed a goiter
the size of a dog’s nose. Both
sniffed the air, twitched
while they waited
for something coming.