Saturday, October 16, 2010

The Big Cats (of Autumn)

Tigers orange and red
and lions, lions golden,
climbing headfirst down the long soft trunks
of summer, vibrant into autumn,
fast-beholding hoary winter's encroach;
like a hand with a collar,
stiffening bark.

Claws like the claws
on the hands of a clock-face
telling time's dull toll, minute to hour;
the last laugh of the last partygoer
downing his drink in an empty room
of pale, pale trees.

Trees with trunks so high, who can tell
if the tigers started from the top before the lions,
kicking off the sky like the bottom of a lake
and racing the big cats down
to see who'd first be swept in piles
and pounced on?

1 comment:

  1. This is so great. Very creative. I would love to see this illustrated in a book of children's poetry, by someone like Jon J Muth (see "A Family of Poems, My Favorite Poetry for Children" and the illustration he did for the "The Tyger," by William Blake.)

    I would never have thought of trees flaming with fall leaves as tigers and lions, but this poem makes it quite real.

    Great fun to read!