Is spread across the yellow grass
Like butter freckled with breadcrumbs
There is a golden cataract
Hovering above the edge of the hill-chain
A translucent mist clambers on high
And meets the edge of the silhouette
Where a snake limb trumpets ire
Into the savannah air
The tusks arm into the vista.
Slow and fearless, the silhouettes
Take elephantine forms
Slouching across the twilight
Mother, son and daughter
I recognize them
In the ivory hue and night dust
Of the Serengeti
The mother braces a dark gaze at me
Her eyes brimming with a clear fluid
And I remember when they said
-Ndovu hawatosahau-
Elephants will never forget
Poet’s Note: The recent move seeking to lift the ban on trading in animal trophies had stirred many; this justified indignation does so not only in the hearts of men and women who risk their lives protecting these treasures, the researchers and conservationists who offer lifetimes of work and the quintessential everyman in the street but also the animals themselves who are to bear the brunt of brutality and ignorance.
