Amaranthine Beauty
Matriarch of the Serengeti
With Brontide rumbling she guides the family
puffing dust onto dry cracked skin
Gracefully she carries herself, swaying to the music of dancing plain grasses
petrichor rising from the earth brings relief
Amaranthine beauties plod along a well worn path
Drumming out an ancient beat with legs big and strong
like the trunk of the strangle fig
their pace tell of a thirst soon to be quenched
Ghosts of mist start to curl and wisp, soothing sandpaper skin
which turns from brown to grey
She smells the living rains, her trunk moving this way and that way
grasping high into the Acacia, tasting the young succulent leaves
before the return of an Icterine fall
Unsuspecting, she moves towards the watering hole for a bath
a long overdue gathering, night time and death
Her orphic aura is gone with the wind of bullets
that pass through her leather like skin and Serengeti night
Wise mother takes with her, repositories of knowledge and wisdom
now lost forever to her offspring
Sonorous cries fill the plains, mans entertainment making sure
she will neither hear their calls nor answer back
ever again
Her majestic tusks will soon be playing Bach in a New York school
& eight ball in a corner pocket
PICTURE 2
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