Bones are to dogs as carrots are to...

Spinach
a catalyst for an afternoon of herbivorous existence
hopping with kin between rows of
rich
green
sustenance
nibbling with teeth
ill designed for such grazing

My brother’s
failed attempts to wiggle his nose
in a fashion that suited our purposes
manifested
as the flaring nostrils of
a predator
and so he became one
in our world -
a source of feigned fear that
did not fail
to quicken the pulse
of uncertain small mammals

My mother played her role as well
- the gardener -
stepping out onto the front porch
hollering across the uncut grass
of her domain
kneeling in the loose black earth
horrified to find
that we
- blameless in our anamorphic state –
had uprooted the juvenile carrots
to satisfy our childish understanding

Rabbits require carrots after all