Antlers

There are tight circles,

Amongst the jack rabbits.

Somewhere where the grass

Is green, and the water is cool.

The snow flushes out their hops

Into mere pitter-pats

And the cats stalk their prey into the night.

I don’t know if it’s the cold

Bringing this blush to my cheeks.

The jack rabbits reminded me of love and the desert

But they too, get cold.

Burrowed into their holes like my own hibernation in bed.