A F T,  B U M P E R,  C A N


Hare Lines

In springtime our thoughts
     turn toward Pesach and Easter,
toward matzo and eggs
     and a cotton-tailed keister.

In summer we think about
     visiting beaches
to bask in the sunshine
     while eating ripe peaches.

     In autumn, leaves wither, and—
          if you’re a duck—
     you wing your way southward
          with anatine pluck.

             In winter, when holidays
                  oft’ involve candles,
             ’tis maybe the season
                  to stop wearing sandals.

                  Then springtime again—
                       the years scamper on
                  like that cotton-tailed bunny,
                       here and then gone.