Poetry: The Victim

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Her face, a jarring juxtaposition

Of the eyes of a rabbit cowering

In a hollow, moss-eaten log, alert

With the terror of survival, waiting

For the hawk to leave her perch, in contrast

To the too human lines that have emerged

From deep beneath her pale skin, carrying

The wear and tear of all the years, absurd

Triumph and loss, midnight laughter, the weight

Of repeated rejection. She rises,

Slumps into the car and drives to the lake.

Astonished to find herself in darkness,

She cries out in fury at the random

Cruelty of all-too human systems.

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