Dear Rabbit,

I see you. I see you following me. I see the way you cross the borders of my vision and my imagination. I see the way you jump from house to house within seconds, peering through windows, hanging from doors. I see you hop through my peripheral vision,  stake yourself in lawns, swing yourself from banners. I see your face, your ridiculous face, now cartoonish, now realistic, white or brown.

I see you following me. I see you watch me as I pass by. I am watching you too, Rabbit. I see the way that your presence intensifies until you finally show up in my Easter basket, and the way you begin to disappear after that. But even in the middle of the year, I still feel you watching me from closets and hidden places.

Until next year, Rabbit. I’m ready for you.