What You See at the End of a Lion
Evolutionary cruelty isn’t having more
black stripes than white, or more white
stripes than black. It isn’t a brick grasping
a giraffe more than most men do women.
It isn’t a cassowary and an emu facing off
for the most Preposterous Bird Award.
Camouflage is one thing, insect repellant
another, and a third is temperature control.
Imagine a dazzle trampling dry grasses.
Imagine whirling yellow dust and chaff.
You need uncanny eyesight to isolate
one bar of sunlight from the other.
Luckily the world is not black and white
except for the colorblind and perhaps
they are lucky to be saved from the lurid
palette of death and its hemoglobin shades.
We rarely love the ferret or the hamster.
We coddle our canines and felines
and our horses take our breath away.
But we could never saddle these customers.
They bite like dogs and kick like mules.
Just ask the lion. But the lion doesn’t dream
of polka dots. And gazelles never hit the spot
like stripes of black and white or white and black.
About the Author: Salvatore Difalco writes from Toronto Canada.
Image Credit: George Stubbs “Lion and Lioness” (1770)Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 