Notes About The Poem

THIS IS A MEMORY WITH MINOR POETIC LICENSE.

 

The Jungle

The Jungle
Kevin Davis 2026

Walking in the dark jungle,
The air is warm and moist.
Around are vines that tangle.
Sounds are quiet, but voiced.

What is in this site so eerie?
My thoughts are endless,
Snakes, spiders I am leery,
But carry on, I am ceaseless.

Something strolls in the canopy,
Monkees, sloths, I do hope,
My mind thinks danger, no laxity.
My eyes ever ready keep the scope.

I hear a growl in near distance; 
My weapon rises, forward and ready,
I choose a path for my existence, 
Yet press ahead, leery and still ready. 

Soundless as I could, I moved ahead; 
Wet leaves brushed me — things that fled. 
More stirring sounds filled heart and head; 
I listened close, eyes forward, stead.

There in the dark before me, something moved. 
I tried to blend with jungle’s form, 
Kept my gaze fixed, my body unmoved, 
As another armed shape fought the thorn.

An enemy more deadly than my worst fear,
Stood lingering there, unaware. 
I held my breath as wind brushed near — 
Did he sense that whisper in the air.

Suddenly, much closer now, a roar — 
I held like stone, no movement made. 
From the corner of my eye, a boar
Burst through the brush, its tusk a blade.

It struck my foe; his scream tore air, 
Blood leapt bright upon the ground. 
I raised my weapon, sighted there, 
And squeezed — releasing one clean round.

My target down, the jungle stilled. 
With cautious steps I moved ahead. 
Neither man nor boar moved both killed, 
Their bodies wildly twisted, newly dead.

I reached the scene of sudden war, 
A flood of blood on the jungle floor. 
I nudged each form with weapon’s bore, 
Ensuring threat remained no more.

The boar was dead and moved no more.
Laid on its stomach, my bullet there.
From my enemy rose a faint rough snore,
I knelt upon the jungle floor laid bare.

I found his wound and pressed to slow the blood,
I reached for my pack, snagging my first aid pack,
Pulled out gauze and tape to stay the crimson flood.
A Patch secured, though hope he still did lack.

He stirred a bit, speaking excitedly,
His language one I barely knew.
I answered softly, speaking words quietly.
I wondered how to get us through this hell.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

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