Jackrabbit Blues
With houses hogging every
lot
the habitat is shrinking
fast
for hounded hares of Harlingen
who cling to every clump of
grass.
They‘re long and lean
with ears to match
and walk with rocking gait.
Rumps up, heads low.
In howling wind they hunker
down
on sparsely covered bits of
ground
and run with blinding speed
when danger’s near.
Then disappear in broad
daylight.
And when I think we’ve seen
the last
I scan the vacant lots’
tall grass
and there they sit, this
tiny band
of hounded hares from Harlingen .
My grandma loaned us a .22 single shot rifle when I was a seven years old. Come fall Dad and I were out jack rabbit hunting for the bounty. As I recall, the bounty started out at 10 cents a head. By late November, early December, the bounty climbed all the way to two bits. A box of .22 shorts went for 52 cents a box of 50. A kid could make a lot more Christmas money than he could delivering Grit.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, often I would get up on a Saturday morning, grab the rifle and head out by myself. Times have changed. The concept of a seven years old hunting would cause an uproar. The idea of that same seven years old hunting alone ... I shudder to think.