Baby Rabbits by Terri Kirby Erickson

Baby rabbits, you have wrung
my heart like a wet dishrag, set
my pulse racing whenever you,
your soft bodies quivering, stray
too far from the burrow. I watch
you from my kitchen window,
knowing I cannot help or save
you from the dangers lurking
all around you—the neighbor’s
cat, a hungry hawk, the heavy
paw of a large dog sniffing the
ground. So small and helpless,
the four of you, like infants left
by the side of the road, I can’t
imagine how you will survive,
though I make myself believe
you will. Have mercy, I say out
loud, my hand on the hard glass.



Terri Kirby Erickson is the author of six collections of poetry. Her work has appeared in “American Life in Poetry,” The Sun, The Writer’s Almanac, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Verse Daily, and many others. Her awards include the Joy Harjo Poetry Prize and a Nautilus Silver Book Award.