The Springtime, Pierre-Auguste Cot, 1873

Denise Levertov

***

The red eyes of rabbits   

aren't sad. No one passes

the sad golden village in a barge

any more. The sunset   

will leave it alone. If the   

curtains hang askew   

it is no one's fault.

Around and around and around

everywhere the same sound   

of wheels going, and things   

growing older, growing   

silent. If the dogs

bark to each other

all night, and their eyes   

flash red, that's

nobody's business. They have   

a great space of dark to   

bark across. The rabbits   

will bare their teeth at