Lord and Protector

Look!  There ... he cries, pointing

the direction and I see the dark

green of underbrush and waving

wands of bright yellow goldenrod

What now is he attempting in his

delusional need to defy my eyes?

Can't you see it? he asks,

exasperated.  No, I cannot, I 

respond with just the right touch

of tart defiance.  The hare is there,

large enough, tawny-brown, ears

twitching just as Lewis Carroll

might have envisioned.

As we slowly, quietly approach

it stirs itself off the trail,

disappearing into the bracken,

taking its wild essence from our

avid scrutiny and relieving our

bored little dog from its urgent

requirement to protect us.