They lay around all day
and the people come in
Poisson waves
all the little ones
enthusiastic but not too
loud the slow wind plies
above the short green grass below
where they lay around all day
The sign says talk quietly
but it’s hopeless—lions!
They lay around all
four, five
hundred pounds apiece
snoozing, chuffing
head up head down eyes closed or
barely open
watching
waiting
all day behind their moat beyond
their fence and the people come
bearing gifts of little ones
from Japan and San Jose and
always Australia
in their stripey tights and tiny boots
colors lost in every rainbow
never seen on any veldt
They lay around conserving
casual
bored looking
waiting
for a moment’s
inattention
for a moment’s
time alone
Reblogged this on reubenwoolley.
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