Out of the Eggs of Ants

TAWNY KINGS IN LIMBO In the twilight and the twittering dawn My life goes flitting like a spotted fawn. A scent of something stalks the tall, dry grass- The fragrance of the rain-I come; I pass. Acacia thorn and zigzag lightning rend And scratch their whistling way into the wind. Ant-castles silhouette the fire-swept plains Where tawny kings in limbo shake their manes. The clouds collapse; musk mixes with the breeze. Birds dart into the hard-knot of the trees. A vulture's wing is passed across the sun. Blood stirs to surly muscle on the run. The lion scans the landscape as it lies, His dignity indifferent to the flies.