I can see the herds, the water at the end of the brush, the thin water.
My shoulders slump to claws, my head rests on a branch.
Am I high enough? I dreamed water, the thin water spreading,
dust drinking like an elephant, swelling until water became scale,
hide, skin--and everything began to float.
We can climb. Elephants can swim. I can carry
some smaller creatures to the upper branches.
Zebras run.
But the guns...they come in water cars.
We have to find trees and they swim nearer and shoot us,
scoop us from the skin of the water, leave bones,
take our dryness with them.
Even the zebras, even the elephants.
I dreamed of water and of guns.
Am I high enough?
My shoulders slump to claws, my head rests on a branch.
Am I high enough? I dreamed water, the thin water spreading,
dust drinking like an elephant, swelling until water became scale,
hide, skin--and everything began to float.
We can climb. Elephants can swim. I can carry
some smaller creatures to the upper branches.
Zebras run.
But the guns...they come in water cars.
We have to find trees and they swim nearer and shoot us,
scoop us from the skin of the water, leave bones,
take our dryness with them.
Even the zebras, even the elephants.
I dreamed of water and of guns.
Am I high enough?
Last night, of course, I also dreamed of invasion. We moved to a house a museum had been using as a place to host parties and people were angry that we wanted to live in the house we had bought. They banged on the door, they took pictures, they ignored the signs that said "private residence." We curled up in a bedroom you could only reach by a broken ladder, turned off all the lights, and hoped the next party would be better (while eating party food we'd scrounged). My favorite season is creeping slowly closer with the promise of true horror--nothing safe or preventable about what fall brings in train. Or it's just like the library we recently reshuffled--it had begun to loom in the room too small for the bookshelves we'd stuffed within--it's more manageable with more space.
Hope the coming week brings lightness & a good view & writing space. Sharing with The Sunday Muse and with Poets & Storytellers United.
-- Chrissa
I love the repeating question and the dream of water with the thoughts of the safety of the elephants, zebras and wild life. The dream you had was intense. I hate dreams like that, but I think it may have also inspired your beautiful poem. Wishing you too a week ahead full of lovely light and musings my friend.
ReplyDeleteAn animal point of view of the "great white hunters" who are driven by ego, shoot indiscriminately for skins and tusks, with no regard for the beauty that is nature.
ReplyDeleteSad days for animals have come. We all should tell of their plight every now and then. I have not done my share but you did fine here. I also have day dreams, thoughts, that if we were ever conquered as a nation we probably would be shot as too old to work.
ReplyDelete..
"I dreamed of water and of guns.
ReplyDeleteAm I high enough?"
So much depth and pathos in your closing lines
Happy Sunday. Stay Safe.
Much💝love
My eyes kept on getting bigger and bigger with every line. I love how the suspense was so well done that even though I suspected what was coming, I hoped (all the way until the last line) that it wouldn't. I'm still hoping for "high enough", I think.
ReplyDeleteYou built up an amazing sense of tension here. I wish I could say it wasn't relatable, but I've wondered how high metaphorically one needs to be to feel safe, and even if they've done everything right, will it ever be enough?
ReplyDeleteWell written Chrissa
ReplyDeleteHeartbreaking the things humans do Your poem matches the sad expression on the lions face Great write and these are great lines "scoop us from the skin of the water, leave bones,
ReplyDeletetake our dryness with them."
What a plaintive voice your lion speaks with .. I hear fear, dread. What has society devolved into ...... love your notes and yes I know I misused prepositions. LOL.
ReplyDeleteVivid, distressing, and all too believable.
ReplyDeleteBeing a Leo, I have an affinity with lions and all kinds of cats. I love that your poem is written from the lion’s perspective. The repetition of ‘Am I high enough?’ hints at the vulnerability of an animal most people think of a dangerous.
ReplyDelete“ the water at the end of the brush” - this made me think of watercolors, the poet as painter. A moment of beauty, a drop hanging, before all the anxiety of the rest of the poem.
ReplyDeletewe used to think of lions as predators...even the great hunter is no match for guns.
ReplyDeleteIt's a sad world we've made, when lions live in fear and are hunted relentlessly by the worst predator on earth. Sigh. So well done, Chrissa.
ReplyDeleteOh, those closing lines were excellent, as was the poem.
ReplyDeletescoop us from the skin of the water, leave bones,
ReplyDeletetake our dryness with them. - so good!!!
If only humans could should some humanity in protecting this beautiful world and its inhabitants but no, we have all we need so we kill other creatures just for our own pleasure.
ReplyDelete