African Plains
On these arid roasting plains, a virtual frying pan
For beasts to live they must survive on anything they can
Another bug collecting dung, enjoying foetid goodness
May perhaps have much to teach my fellow starving man
Often poop quickly rots so tastes uniquely vile
It must be freshly dropped and not lay there for a while
But when the grass is history and rain becomes a mystery
The king of beast himself would eat a rancid crocodile
But every year the rain on which we’re helplessly dependent
Shall fill the empty river bed where hippos are attendant
Herds of antelope come out where lush green grass again shall sprout
Lions muster now on plains: quietly resplendent
But there a shortage everywhere of places we can live
Property developers do things we can’t forgive
And builders can’t deny encouraging financial gain
They can sell their houses here, if it doesn't rain
4 August 2021
For: Alpha Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Copyright © Terry Flood | Year Posted 2021
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