writing, poetry, prose, Ann Cragg

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Prose Poems by Ann Cragg

Bunnies in the Brambles

Once there was a man called Great Hunter
Who lived with his mate who was simply called She.
One morning Great Hunter came into the kitchen
Where She was washing the breakfast dishes
And announced that she should let the housework go for the day
For they were going hunting.
Another hunter had told him of a piece of land
Abounding with brambles and everyone knew
That rabbits abounded in bramble patches.
So they were going rabbit hunting!
She was sure she felt her heart drop a few inches and
A chill ran up her back.
She could not stand to think of Great Hunter
Shooting even one beautiful bunny rabbit
And demanding that she cook it for dinner.
And she knew she'd not be able to eat even one bite.
She did not want to go with him
But she knew better than to argue with Great Hunter
For, no matter how wrong he might be, he was always right.
And once you knew this, you just kept your silence.
She picked up her shoulder bag on the way out.
She could at least enjoy the ride through the countryside
On the way to the bramble patch.
There was a clearing to the right of the brambles
And he, Great Hunter, would stay in this
While She would run through the brambles,
Scaring the rabbits out into the clearing
Where he could shoot them.
Run through those brambles?
Scare those helpless little bunnies out
To be murdered by him?
Her heart fell even further and
Her stomach definitely did a flip-flop.
But she had learned long ago
Not to voice an opinion, so she did not speak.
She would have to think of some way out of this dilemma
But right now that seemed an impossibility.
She started slowly through the brambles,
Running through was out, for the brambles clung to her
And held her, tearing her clothes.
She grew very angry at Great Hunter
But she must not let him know.
Soon She spied a big beautiful bunny
Sitting at the edge of a bramble patch,
Enjoying the warm sun.
Her heart fell into her shoes and She stood very still.
The rabbit looked at her with dark, soft eyes full of wonder.
He did not seem to fear her at all.
How could she keep him safe?
She longed to stroke his fine, silken coat
And whisper to him that he must go back inside.
Was her feeling so strong it actually served
As a warning to the beautiful creature?
She did not know but the rabbit slowly turned
And crept back inside the brambles.
Each time She saw a rabbit, she did exactly as she had done
And the bunnies all took cover.
Great Hunter was in a very bad mood the rest of the day.
He could not understand
Why she'd had to move so slowly and he'd seen her stop more than once.
She explained that she'd had a pain in her side
And she'd had to keep stopping to get another tissue from her bag –
He knew the warm sun always made her nose run!
And, besides, you could not possibly run through those brambles!
Just look at her shredded clothing
And the scratches on her body!
She wasn't lying; she did have a stitch in her side
And she had had the sniffles.
The ruined clothing did not seem to bother Great Hunter
Nor did her scratches.
He had gone hunting and he had come home empty-handed.
He was angry at her and sorry for himself.
He was angry, too, at the other hunter.
He was sure he had deliberately misled him.
Great Hunter never did learn that the bramble patches
Actually had been abounding with rabbits.
And She never had to run through a bramble patch again.

Transformation

Yesterday the tree stood barren and forlorn,
Its homeliness alone in the pouring rain.
Last night the temperature fell and the driving rain stopped.
Today the tree stands sheathed in crystal ice,
Small icicles forming jewelled pendants here and there,
Its beauty sparkling in the morning sun.

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