SNARES UNSHACKLED | POEM | Tribute to Rwanda         

I watched as a gray streaking hare

hopped and leaped into the air with a flair

only to land smack right in the middle of a snare

blinded by the the intense glare of a blinding flare

was the hare in a scare that was rare?

wiggling this way and that way but going no where

it lay quiet and still with its belly laid bare

a hunter stopped to stare

at this forlon creature so tight and gasping for air

bending down he cut the jaws that made a pair

freeing the hare from the steel grip of terror

I looked closely to see what kind of fella

would offer a hand as an umbrella

to a creature that by all accounts fair and square

should have ended up in the back of his trailer

Hutu or Tutsi? Rwandise, was the gentle counter

When I ventured to ask if it was an error

I am neither one nor the other

He pointed to his gray hair and then to the freed hare

My eyes quickly adjusted in a bid to compare

and In an instant, I saw the damage and the repair

and a tear rolled down as it washed away my dispair

For there before me stood two echos with time to spare

reverberating with a message so simple and lacking in flair

the swift kicks of a free wheeling hare

and yet as timeless and winding as the white strands of hair

of a kind and loving hunter fella

that I met in the back of a rusty and dusty trailer

By Solomon W. Jagwe | Soreel GraFX © All RIghts Reserved | http://www.sowl.com

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