Tiger Riding for Beginners

Traveling Poet Philosopher & Occasional Wiseacre

Posted on March 2, 2022 by B Gourley

the algae pond -
dappled with leafy fractals,
 patterns shift.
what moves: water or branch?
or, perhaps, just my mind

two flaming umbels
of yellow-orange lantana;
but my eye
moves to the bud cluster
that sits in the background

the high tree hawk
scans for prey from lofty heights;
the rat scurries -
unaware of far-flung foes,
but side to wall all the same

the gorilla
looks deep in contemplation;
children are bored,
but I can't help but wonder
what it is he's plotting?

nordic summer.
the wee hours look like either
sunrise or sunset
is upon us, and
either way, it's true

trees stand straight
in the woods they call "haunted;"
all i see are trees,
but maybe they're ghost trees
and I see nothing at all

even at rest,
the jaguar looks fast -
as long as
its eyes are focused
& its feet pad the ground

the caged cat
stalks a prey it cannot see,
and cannot reach;
does the pseudo-prey know?
does its heartbeat quicken?

plump caterpillar,
grounded on the sidewalk,
hopes that wings
will come around - before
a careless foot does

a fig tree
grew over a building;
that building 
collapsed long ago, but
now the tree is the building