Suddenly there, again, as if materialised out of the windy air, the hare is grazing the grass in front of the livingroom window and stopping at intervals to gaze unseeing in my direction, ears anxiously flicking and his eyes (the colour of Concord grapes) reflecting who knows what in the world we share, the white hairs of his chin shivering in the breeze. Suddenly there to nibble the sweet grasses of the present moment, one long strand dangling, it's as if the creature was there always - like the souls I imagined alive at the other side of mirrors, so when I looked in at myself they'd see me looking, feel the bond unbroken between us. Now when I glance out again he's gone, having hunkered into absence without a trace, although I know he'll be back, passing in a heartbeat through the wishful mirror.
(In memory of Liam Hourican)
Eamon Grennan