An Elegant Terror
and see her again
Deep, glossy black
with a faint pattern
barely discernible
on her luxurious coat.
This panther is not leaping
for my jugular
or pouncing on my child.
Instead, she lies dead in the dirt.
A fine dust
covering her body,
tongue protruding through her saber-like teeth.
Flies buzz around her,
their iridescent green bodies
match the former glossiness
of her beautiful fur
now shoddy and sad
in the bright, hot morning light.
I return with a shovel,
unable to tolerate the thought
of the encroaching ravens and buzzards
ripping through hair and flesh.
My shovel scrapes with a satisfying rhythm
as the hole deepens
to bury this elegant terror.
Fall 2008
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