Groundhog Days

Two grey rabbits arrive punctually, every evening at seven - they eat all the clover, over and over, and still leave enough for supper tomorrow.
Some days feel like Groundhog Days to me, and I have lived this life, this pain, this sorrow, over and over -
And yet I know - rabbits are for Summer, and Summer will fade, Autumn will breeze through and Winter slip away -
And of this day too, nothing will remain - save the memory of two white tails flashing by me.