The Routine

Crossing the road is almost a habit
of this oddly inquisitive rabbit.
Pursuing breakfast, take it all in stride,
but what’s the allure of the other side?
His toffee-edged fur is most attractive,
ripples in the ocean oh so passive.
Is the grass sweeter, greener, over there?
Where’s the parents of this feisty hare?
Coming back, the rabbit gives me the eye,
a friendship which makes me happily sigh.

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