Dead bunny season

Dead bunny season

Every cycle ride, I find baby softness
 bleeding out on the tarmac:
 dead rabbits like toddlers’ lost comforters,
 only limper, more fragile.

 Stilled, their eyes are glass,
 spilling grassy skies. Loss fast-revs
 through me, mixing with revulsion
 as flies buzz to wet intestines.

 I stare, fascinated by dried blood 
 and the lure of peace: dazed
 by something I have to label beauty
 or else face up to my ugliness in gazing.

 On the cruel season’s road, bunnies
 are the lost creatures. Not me
 or my sons, both alive and laughing,
 grown beyond first dangers. And yet,

 my age outpedals hopes of new motherhood.
 Cycling through the season of speeding cars
 and flown wishes, a pain buried deep
 inside me bleeds out. 

Sarah James/Leavesley

Sarah James/Leavesley is an award-winning poet, fiction writer, journalist and photographer, with poetry featured in the Guardian, Financial Times, The Forward Book of Poetry 2016, on the BBC, regional buses and in the Blackpool Illuminations. Author of seven poetry titles, two novellas and a touring poetry-play, she runs V. Press poetry and flash fiction imprint.

Website: www.sarah-james.co.uk.