The Elephant’s Heart
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.