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The Strong Grow Weaker

The strong grow weaker. See the lone lioness, his last daughter, the last of his pride. An old lion limps, bones crumbling with each step. Any day or night other lions, or hyenas must kill them - the once strong cannot remain to infirm the younger. An acrid sun flickers flame over the savannah, antelope instinctively race faster from hair-triggering scents. A young pride hunts; hunger will be their own death predators as vulnerable as prey. Fawns and calves are born again into needy mouths, teeth wear away, the burnt umber of clawed pelts seeps deeper into dust.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 10/28/2020 8:39:00 PM
Nice work. Reminds me of our safari in Africa. I loved your adjectival descriptions, i.e. "hair-triggering scents" and "bones crumbling." Really fine, readable poetry.
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Eric Ashford
Date: 10/29/2020 8:38:00 AM
Thanks you LMH. Yes you nailed it. Good of you to comment. e

Book: Reflection on the Important Things