The pride
New red-leaf candles glow in a green room
jungle cathedral; buttress-rooted forest-columns climb
to a sun-starred sky in jig-saw pieces;
wings stretch feathers over gravity;
voices whisper, ‘Beware. Lions prowl.’
Smooth granite-faced walls build shadow-spaces,
city-blocks; black-suited women, men, stride out,
ground-starers, pacing
beside the sign: ‘Do not feed lions’.
Copyright © Jeanette Swan | Year Posted 2024
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