The Kalahari
The Kalahari
Kneaded clay
Form creases
The thirst of desert
blinding dust and wind
Collide of wave and tide
Females carry the tribe
Their large flappy ears
Fan them cool
Muddy pools
Their sunshade and lemonade
Their long trunk, their utensil and instrument
The herd graze on green bushes
Barge their way through thick trees and weeds
Making way
For grand and small
Giant footprints and dung mark their tracks
It’s dung a beetle’s nest and feast
The labor of a mother’s womb
Trumpets sound to celebrate
Prey to an open field
Darkness cast upon its young
For it is done
Hearts pump and
Trunks join to commemorate
Rumblings from afar detect danger
They form a protective block around the calves
Their ears on alert
Their trunk and feet test the waters
They wait til it passes
They lock trunks to bond
At the patience of the lions
A son grieves it’s mom
Guards over her corpse
And leaves with the survived
Blazing fires rise
The earth crack
The land is barren
The river is drenched
An underground stream arise
They find relief
All come to drink
Marckincia Jean
Free verse
07/28/19
Copyright © Marckincia Jean | Year Posted 2019
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