The full moon was calling me out from my bed
A Hare in my garden
Wild thoughts in my head
Night air breathed softly, as blades of grass danced
amid slivers of moonlight,
their shadows, enhanced
I stepped into night-light of moon's orange glow
My senses all yearning
For what; I don't know
Then lost in the magic of such a grand sight
The Hare and I gazed
As we stood in the night
No sound to disturb us
No harsh interject
Just joint admiration and mutual respect
When at last I looked down
The Hare blinked and I smiled
Then he calmly went back to his place in the wild
This magical moment was a gift rare to see
For I'd shared with a Hare ...and he'd shared it with me.
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I remember so many moonlit nights, especially when it was warm, that were magical to be out in. To meet a creature like the hare makes it doubly so. I remember dangerous dogs that would come up to me to be petted as though I were a friend in the night.
Previously, while commenting on your last poem, I mentioned Little Boy, our friendly squirrel that always seems to ask permission for us to give him nuts.
Ron