Black Rabbit by K.S. Moore

I remember the black rabbit

sat on a throne of hill,

the gold-specked, green


slide down to the road,

where we stopped cars

to wait for his shadow.


He loomed on the day,

glowered just short

of marking our tracks

for animal life.


I wanted to join him,

dye my hair in a shade

that matched his gleaming fur,

feel him change me.



K. S. Moore's poetry has recently appeared in New Welsh Review, Ink, Sweat and Tears, The Honest Ulsterman, Boyne Berries, The Stinging Fly and Southword. Shortlists have included: Trim Poetry Competition, Americymru West Coast Eisteddfod Poetry Competition and Blog Awards Ireland. K. S. Moore shares poetry and other thoughts at

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