Trash Bunny’s Worst Christmas

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Lost animal of Christmas past,

with faded felt belly

frozen in grief to the sidewalk.

Floppy ears conceal eyes

too ashamed to face

the ashen depth of the fall.

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Deprived of a sheltering black bag,

she lies exposed, less than garbage.

Discarded cords, old homework,

and a Disney Store bag from 2007

press against the slack form on three sides.

Her tired pelt casts shadows on jigsaw mats

that are not useful, not even fun.

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 Who used to love you?

Who tossed you aside?

Who remembers the morning

your child shredded the wrapping paper,

(decapitating a dozen printed snowmen)

and grabbed you from the box

hugging you with aggressive joy?

Where is your former perch

on a bunk bed or cedar chest?

You never chose this street, this corner, this end.

Nobody asked if you were done with love.

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When I see the patchwork bow on your neck,

my ribs tighten in pain.

The pale hearts, flowers, and stripes

in green, yellow, and a hint of purple

are too faint to palliate

this heap of hopelessness.

But the colours found me, your witness, your friend.

Let’s sit together until the truck comes.

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