Morning’s Fold

by Max Nelson on October 13, 2014

Times were once so warm and old
my mind ensconced in evenings hold
then one day the air went cold
I’d awoke in mornings fold

loudly up from over where
there stood a mangey well-dressed hare
he crossly eyed me standing there
that brightly standing well-dressed hare
i asked him where should i have gone
to be found from there where id become
and O that hare he laughed along
and sang to me a song

you old and tired soul a-glow
knowing not the way you once did know
knowing not where how, nor whence
I’ll sell them to you, fifteen pence
i have not such cash in hand
o pity me my worthless stand

Then now you’ll sit and listen boy
these dishes need a spinning
sit still and listen, clean and wash
and I’ll lead you on your way

why thank you rabbit oh so kind
you listen with your ears to mine
enough of this the rabbit chimed
sit still and await your carriage

Oh how slow a carriage comes
lingering their many months
In dally do they seem to stay
In idleness their way

for many moons
attending chore
I sat upon that dusty floor
with that rabbit staring down
demanding of me more
I sat atop that dirty ground
and pondered at my state
until one day I looked around
the rabbit had escaped

I stood up, afraid, confused
there had been no goodbye
the day that rabbit let me be
a tear fell from my eye

I knew not then just what to do
there seemed to be nothing left
so I sat upon that floor
and quietly I wept