Gibside Hare: Late August 2017. Poem by DM W

Walking deep inside wild woodland;
Far from modernity's crude sheen,
We came across a light brown hare:
A pleasure so rare given the gloom

We glimpsed its stone still silhouette;
Half sunken in wizened heather;
Trying hard to forget the pangs
Of primal fear; its ears
Had most acutely
Mapped out our coming.

One may surmise, that its' racing heart
Willed the wind to whisk us far away,
From its half baked hideout in the heather.
Then suddenly… exploding into life,
From its tiresome attempt at statue,
It fled to play a game much more satisfying.

We watched in wonder as it disappeared
Over the horizon to be with creatures:
Blessed with a similar free born nature;
Sunned by the spirit of fresh greening fields;