Three Ways of Understanding Nature


Squeaky the dog. Big black dog. Squeaky left a bunny. Feel the soft bunny. Feel the wet grass. Bunnies hop. Hop little bunny. Be quick like a bunny. Mommy loves bunnies. Bunny won’t hop. Wet grass. Sticky brown black. Grocery store. Big broken jar. Sticky brown black. Feel the soft bunny. Little balloon. Dark red. Wet grass. Little balloon. Mommy loves bunnies. Mommy screams.


I came out just in time. She was about to touch it. I went in to put the clothes in the dryer. She can move so fast. The neighbor’s black lab must’ve killed it. That dog is always getting out, always in everybody’s yard. Those kids aren’t old enough to take care of it. I tried to explain it to her without saying “dead.” I knew she’d never stop crying if I told her the truth, and there’s only so much crying you can take. It made such a mess. Blood and organs all over the grass. Already starting to stink.


run run run the bunny faster run faster chase the bunny chase the bunny chase the bunny run run run faster faster faster grab it shake it shake shake shake the bunny shake it shake it shake it hold tight shake the bunny squeaky! squeaky! here girl! run home run home run home

Ellie White holds an MFA from Old Dominion University. She writes poetry and nonfiction. She has won an Academy of American Poets Poetry Prize, and has been nominated for both Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Breakwater Review, SLANT, The Columbia Review, Foundry and many other journals. Ellie’s second chapbook, Drift, was recently published by Dancing Girl Press. Her first full-length collection is forthcoming from Unsolicited Press in 2019. She is a social media editor and reader for Muzzle Magazine. Ellie currently rents a basement in downtown Charlottesville, Virginia.  To read more of her work, visit her website:

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