Out of the Eggs of Ants

TAWNY KINGS IN LIMBOIn the twilight and the twittering dawnMy life goes flitting like a spotted fawn.A scent of something stalks the tall, dry grassThe fragrance of the rainI come; I pass.Acacia thorn and zigzag lightning rendAnd scratch their whistling way into the wind.Ant-castles silhouette the fire-swept plainsWhere 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 vultures 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.