Home for Christmastime
To the folks and the farm
Sitting in old places
Speaking of days past
Moving to these plains
The winter of 1924
Memories of jackrabbits
Fill his head by the hundreds
Even in my own time
Driving home after baseball
Like ghosts in our headlights
Here and gone into darkness
Leaving us to laugh
With funny legs and big ears
Now dad says to me
I haven’t seen a jackrabbit all year
Later in bed alone
My heart sinking
As I try to comprehend
A world without jackrabbits
Disappearing into summer’s dark
-Terry M. Pace (1995)
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