James Walton #63 Surprised bravo by dawn

A rabbit sang outside my window

of the high plains

now chocolate with resowing

at first I thought this not possible

(the rabbit singing I mean)

but a rusty kettle will still boil

even while leaking

the jarrah bench top bronzing

unbuckled by non solar warmth

(the panes broken anyway)

motionless as a captive Durer etching

every muscle outlined

each hair an unruffled mystery

of scattered natural in-breeding

(the myxo eye a little off putting)

a song of ancient lands divided

of travels and pursuit

the piping squealing rising alone

into a wondering day edged open

(the moon in a sircee falling)

breaking kindling into warmth

misty valley stirring

words failed for timely response

the chance missed for encore

(quiet as the space between pulses).