This dog standing in the middle of the street,
tail stiff, fur bushy with fear, and a pedigree rabbit,
its neck broken and bleeding beneath his paws,
might have been forgiven or simply taken away
and shot under different circumstances
and no one would have said much, except his owner
who'd gone out into the yard at the start
of the commotion, having been involved
at other times with the dog's truancies, and yelled,
"Bosco, Bosco, goddamnit!" but unavailing,
and everyone understanding that once more Bosco
had been taken over by the dark corner of his nature.
But this other sentiment we shared as well: the man
Who'd raised the rabbit shouldn't husband something
so rare and beautiful he couldn't keep it
from the likes of Bosco.