Weekly feature by: Rodd Whelpley

I am a monstrous giant
to this bunny,
fallen in my window well.

He quivers, sees, perhaps,
my box, my coaxing stick,
bursts forth his piercing shriek.

Surely, if he could,
he’d sprout tiger claws,
some gnarlsome teeth –

Assume Goliath size,
slash me, savage me, goad me
with my cudgel to beat him down.

Unknowingly would forsake
how I will lift him. Place his box
in an open field. Watch him bound to freedom.

͠   Because that’s the way fear serves us,
always siding with the thing
of which we are afraid.

 

* Excerpted from the longer poem “Eight Impure Emotions in an Arbitrary Order.” “Fear” uses as its last stanza a paraphrased quotation from The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald.