Five of ‘em this morning along with Her Grace’s
early visitation, and of course they didn’t stay. In
inter-macropodal displays visible tension played
havoc with notions they’re a peaceable gang - if
it was a feud it had the bigger two hopping mad
while hanging off content were three - crouched
at a distance and leaping into the ring discretely
interpolating views - or maybe, trading debate
Gestures suggested their wrestling had serious
intent, that it indeed might be an entrée to what
we’d see as breeding season - but these Greys
don’t play rules we’d nominate; and like our ‘ol
grey mare - Her Grace - they all left effortlessly
by hopping quietly into the Bungo Creek trees;
Cued to solidarity, ‘Ol Grace left us too, tho’ in
her case it was at a galloper’s pace …
© 31 August 2015, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment