Tracy, My Bunny

By Scott Sjostrand



Tracy, my Bunny, you hopped away with my heart and God, took my soul.

There’s no one who can console.

Our dreams of children and the American Dream, what a tease.

So mean!

I write songs and poetry to ease the pain.

It comforts my brain.

The beer and smokes don’t do it.

They just appear and temporarily exist.

I’d take you back and jump the broom!

We could be fertile late in life

With fruit of the Womb!