Inking the Savannah

The poem bares its teeth: a hyena,
laughter breaking in jagged bursts,
circling the margins,
menace felt in scuffling shadows.

 

Then it rises upright: a meerkat,
eyes darting across horizons,
paws quick in sudden scurry,
a hesitant vigil before burrowing.

 

Between circling and scurry,
menace and play entwine,
scarfing fragments into chorus
more than jotted lines on a page.

 

 

.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I wish I had written this...you are an amazing poet....some can write like this, others are just scavengers eating up the leftover talent.
j.

[redd Brick Keshner]

Thanks, j. Sometimes the pushing brings results. And sometimes the nib scrapes against grain and digs in l, screeching abrasively. Many thanks, Freds. 🙏🏻🕊️

[Chad]

It’s a bold, imaginative piece that feels alive with movement and tension. The poem succeeds in painting the Savannah as both dangerous and playful, but more polish in transitions and word choice could change it from strong to unforgettable

[redd Brick Keshner]

Ink on the Savannah

The poem bares its teeth: a hyena,
laughter breaking in jagged bursts,
circling the margins,
menace felt in scuffling shadows.

From the dust it stirs, half‑laughter, half‑watch,
a shuffle of shadows breaking into frisk,
rising upright: a meerkat,
eyes darting across horizons,
paws quick in sudden scurry,
a hesitant vigil before burrowing.

Between circling and scurry,
menace and play entwine,
scarfing fragments into a chorus
stretching across Savannah plains.

-