sleep and dance

the Alpaca guard
is lying down

on his hilltop

he spits a stream
of cudded juice
if Llama can
Alpaca will

down the slope
the blue eyed jets
are eye to eye
and beaks touch

they are raven-walking
back and forth
in a sway
of black satin

a carnevale of colour

on barren slopes
sheep huddle in a mob
beneath the shade
of a single tree
under the blazing sun
and gaze
in wonder

the corvid tango
is a trance
an intensity

stylized struts
reflect sunlight
in the deep
and lustrous
shades of shining night

an emu drones its jaw harp
another booms
in rhythm

the third bird
swallows its amazement
at the Latin steps

raising dust above
the undulating horde
of birds
each holding tickets
for the dance floor

the Alpaca guard
on his small
tonsured tor
is lying down

eyes closed
he chews his cud
and ignores the click
of claws
and the rising cloud
of earthen powders
that surrounds him
staining his white
to vaguely ochre

his pretty eyes
so tightly closed
he chews and dreams
the wild
Alpaca dreams
of the Andes

Alpaca dreams
of heroes
standing tall
with Llamas

© Frank Prem, 2017

March 2017 Poem #6: the pursuit


9 thoughts on “sleep and dance

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.