Mr. Larson

There are sometimes that I dive into these rabbit holes.  Sometimes chasing that  Trix rabbit.  Sometimes that tattoo rabbit.  Sometimes the Alice rabbit.  Sometimes the Buffy rabbit.  You never know if you will come back from the other side of that mirror.  Was that image you see just a mirage like the hotel in Vegas, or the blurry oasis in the Death Valley desert.  What was I chasing,

or was it chasing me and I didn't know it?


Great friends past but their messages were silent.  It is up to us to find that message.  To chase their rabbit to find what they were trying to tell us. 


For what did they leave us with,

but are pieces of light encapsulated,

in fireflies.

In their darkness of the moon,

we must to collect,

that light,

and bring it with us to day light,

and let the rabbits back to their home,

their journey,

their cancer,

their den,

their light.


Rest in the breezes my friend,

Rest in the fields of gold,

as the sweet grass blades brush through your hair.

Your dreams were built with your eyes open,

so now you may rest with your pieces of light,

so I will dig to find and barrow them and return.