Animal stories




It was you who came to me –
You were the giver,
And I the humble worshiper.
You owned the garden long before I came,
A speckled streak between piled rocks,
Protruding, curious head, arched neck,
Wise, yellow watching eyes
Waiting for me to understand.
I threw meat. You watched, immobile,
Before tasting the smell with your tongue,
And then the flashed movement, gone before starting:
You chewed with small jaws, I watched in awe.
And so I learnt from you. You knew my feet.
You flashed your presence, silver light across the earth,
Under leaves. You came and took from my giant hand,
Which reached into the field of your being,
The small morsel of proffered meat,
And I felt the touch of your wild lip on my finger.
You took, like rich kings take gifts from commoners,
And we crossed the last boundaries of kind.




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