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The Elephant’s Heart

September 21, 2018

is                                  
the size of a stone          
that can re-channel          
running waters, small streams 
of the jungle                 

 

beats                 
in andante, counts                             
the hours of the day                  
to twelve, not twenty-four,
each pulse
a thunder
footfall
on a trail 
of dust

 

pumps
blood through veins shored up
with muscle, only concave strength
can withstand the gravity 
of such a creature.

 

The elephant’s heart holds
memories, the scent of savannah grass,
the lightness found only in water,
the clank of the enclosure gate.
It keeps the vessels open,
endures the heavy
echo of a dead
calf’s cry.

 

The elephant’s heart knows
the distress of another,
holds vigil over
the swaying passage
of each long,
still 
day,
counts down 
waits.

 

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