Perspective in a Hare’s Eye
by Jane Lovell
Second Prize in the Bare Fiction Prize for Poetry 2016
Skyline erupts into tree, backlit and spilling
its own horizon across a perfect black moon,
an anti-matter moon, brimming deep pool silence:
a universe where nothing moves
till two thousand feet down, blunt and primeval,
they drift at you, curious at your veins fizzing,
your mouth yielding glassy planets of air.
Jaws champ, lamp-eyes drift back into blackness.
This moment holds you in its ocean.
This is the place where no one will find you:
no one sees you, except the hare, sudden
and skyswept, poised on a grassblade of decision.