Leopard

Photo by Sven Liebchen

A crimson slash across a bleeding horizon

sunset

cuts the dark plains in time for feeding.

On padded paws of purple night he flows

like artist’s paint from dark to light

and back again unknown, to merge and blend

in every jungle scene where primal urge

is sheathed in deadly stealth and cunning

and easy glides when every prey is running.

By Richard G. Beyer (for Susan Wilson)

This poem was kindly shared by our friend "Bwana Africa"

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