By well-wisher
Now where is the hare?
Is it here or there?
With its coat so white,
it keeps out of sight.
And if not for that magic coat,
it’d be prey to fox or stoat,
the Arctic wolf or snowy owl
or polar bears out on the prowl.
Yet the hare can see what’s unseen;
smell willows underground
with twitching nose and, with its keen
ears, hear the slightest sound.
You glimpse a black tipped ear;
its eyes, jewels in the snow
but then it disappears.
Now where did that hare go?
Artist Maggie Vandewalle
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