[Martin Elster]

Prophecy

Maned wolves hunt pacas on the plains,
white rhinos forage free all day,
while flying foxes flap away
in search of nectar. Gruesome stains
from wounds, shrieks caused by piercing pains
have vanished with the dawn of May,
where tamarin and tiger play
(though not together!) in the rains
that strum the jungly forest leaves
or underneath savanna suns.
No more do Nature’s glossy sheaves
broach doom. Now I can take a breath
of pristine air, for she who runs
the world thinks more of life than death.