A jackalope

Art - Stephanie Roberts, April 2023

A jackalope 
spoke to me one night,
near a dry arroyo,
by new moonlight,
just west of dusk
and east of daybreak.
She stoked my cold fire,
then eased me awake.

She said she’d been hunting
the Wondrous Things 
when she heard them humming
within my dreams. 
Her eyes gleamed 
optimistically;
I sensed she’d arrived 
as a guide for me.

I whispered, “They taught me 
you’re make-believe;
that you’re too odd 
for reality.”
“They may say the same about you,”
she replied,
“let’s give them no power to
dim our light.”

We talked of topics
profound and profane. 
We danced with a cactus.
We sang with the rain.
We played elating games  
until dawn,
then fast as a lightning flash,
                                                    she was gone.

When evenings come,
I hear her words
in the buzz of 
a dozen hummingbirds.
She visits sometimes,
on particular nights
when I crack my window,
and throw open my mind.

Lee DeNoya - Atlanta, April 2023