Little Rabbit's Glen

Drip, drip, drip,

you hold the bowl above my bowed head,

catching droplets of snake’s milk.

Deep,

I am bound,

by the entrails of the child I was,

and you

stand above,

catching each drop.

But a time comes,

when I must face the venom,

and give your hands

a moment to rest.

I will be strong,

for your kindness gives me strength.