Blink. Blink.
Chew. Chew.
Swallow.
It is a fascinating and rare treat to see the giraffa camelopardalis, better known as the elusive giraffe of the central African savanna
How I long to be free of this place where they
gawk
and point
and coerce bright flashes
out of their cold gray rectangles.
Where the laughter is
ephemeral
and smiles
evanescent.
I miss the mellifluous tunes
that escaped with the sun rays
and engaged every shrub, grass, and brush
in a dalliance of xanthous and tangerine.
I yearn for a cool summer breeze
to kiss the camel furs of my neck
as I graze on the
acacias
and baobabs.
I crave the subtle
cautionary rustle in blonde grass
where the lion pride
prepares to strike.
The urge to feel the adrenaline pulse
from the zenith
of my ossicone,
to the soul
of my cloven hoof
as I gallop for miles,
is illimitable.
A steady rhythm in the afternoon rain.
They
have not even
tasted the sweet sand
that comes
in a gust of wind
on a still day.
But instead they stand
behind the glass.
Attempting to capture
thoughts
feelings
experiences
that can never be theirs.
I pity them.
Funny how I am the one in a cage
but they are the ones that will never be
free.

How little can be known
of
the noble creature
that stands tall
among
the elephant grasses
the color of
pyrite.