Bunny Slippers

 

My slippers don’t actually

have bunny ears on them

but they’re more than twelve

years old, a ripe old age

for a house rabbit or slippers.

They’ve survived twelve

funerals of nine family 

members and three dear

friends. They’ve stayed 

in Thailand, Korea, France

and the Grand Canyon,

camped in the Poconos,

moved house up and down 

the east coast from Florida

to Upstate New York,

Connecticut, New Jersey,

North Carolina, forth 

and back to France--all

told, twenty-four moves

or two times twelve. When

they first covered my feet, 

not one of the nine kinfolk 

were ailing. I never imagined 

them dying or going 

to Thailand. Similar to how

bunnies don’t imagine 

wearing slippers.

photo: bunnies, Cathédrale Saint-Nicolas (Russian Orthodox Cathedral), Nice