04. Ivory, Bone, China, Stone

Ivory, Bone, China, Stone

Dead eyes, heavy feet, in unison
they pound, feet firmly on the ground,
stomping,
Hitting hard packed earth,
Wrinkled eyes, arthritic knees,
Tails hanging parallel to trunks;
Ears like parachutes curl inwards,
Unfurl, listening for the whistling
of the crowd.
Grey-scale hunks of meat,
The elephants don’t miss a beat,
Like the pounding of a drum,
Single file,
Melancholy they march,
a pulsing heart,
red and gooey.

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