Monday, 18 November 2013

'Goodbye, Western Black Rhino'

Long, useless years
you struggled on, wavered
on the edge of extinction.
Few noticed and fewer cared;
but now your time has come.
You must take your leave:
your lumbering ghost slips
into the puzzle that is history.
Let some new age ask
of your enigmatic bones:
How did it turn out thus?

Western Black Rhino, it is not your fault.
Whole herds have gone before you:
among them Glyptodon, Diplodocus,
Mammuthus primigenius,
Megaloceros giganteus,
and horned Triceratops;
Iguanodon and Ankylosaurus;
Brontosaur, the so-called 'thunder lizard';
Tyrannosaurus, Allosaurus,
winged and clawed,

No, the fault is not yours.
The world is shrinking.
There is no room left for greatness.
Greed and folly diminish us all
and may 'do' for us, too, in the end.
So Western Black Rhino,
sleep on in peace.
I pray your ‘Good Mother’
find and keep you.
Your tread may no longer
cause the earth to quake
and the grasslands
will tremble no more.

© Abigail Wyatt

Abigail Wyatt is a not-for-profit poet. One reason is that she firmly believes it is the job of the poet to make her/his at least a little bit uncomfortable. The other reason is that, since the age of thirteen, she has had trouble keeping quiet about injustice. It hasn't always made for a simple life.