Rediscovering Rabbit Week Poem by Pamela Ann Frances Crane

Does he think?
Too small to be real, bearing
A marked resemblance to the trousered rabbit;
Apparently knitted,
The only clear distinction between him and the thing with which
He holds communion being
The cap of golden fuzz over the ears
And definitely fingers.

Rabbit is an artifact, however.
Verily knitted.
Rabbit, flung, sprawls
Uncomplaining.
Rabbit chewed
Is mercifully bloodless;
Rabbit,
Inspected and abused, deserves
A medal for patience.

As for the other
Small cuniculomorph,
Agent of these ritual indignities
And muttered spells,
There is more behind the
Blue-bead eyes than bears question,
Far more than old nylon stockings and foam chips,
There is (and wonder at it)
Sufficient
Unto itself and still enough to spare
Of magic mind
Wherewith to gaze life into his woollen ally
So I could swear
The beast reciprocates the stare.
- And does he think? ?