The rabbits’ downy tail marks them

as one of nature’s grass digesters,

the ones who hang sag-necked from foxes’ jaws

that lollop when attempting speed.

The ones whose side-face eyes

are trying to see both sides of the horizon,

that plug away inches from the earth

and never thought to lick warm blood.

Animals the colour of the underbrush

whose white butts flash in Morse distress,

strobe lights as they start to run,

saying I’m here! Dinner! Seeming stupid,

until the patches of the hill you never saw

were breathing move as one, unraveling

the ground ahead in a white-capped rush.

unpublished poem, © Holly Hopkins 2019, used by permission of the author

The free tracks you can enjoy in the Poetry Archive are a selection of a poet’s work. Our catalogue store includes many more recordings which you can download to your device.