Dedicated to Simon Metekai Masago and Jackson Kayionni Letiol

The bleached bones of buffalo,
wildebeest.
Their skulls, chin forward,
a line of white strung behind.
Nuggets of vertebrae that once held
sturdy backs.

I see their necks stretched forward,
their bodies as an offering
to the lions who feast on their organs,
their flesh.

As if they say, here, this is how
I live on. In your pride,
in the packs of hyenas that follow,
and those of the jackals
behind them. In the final gleaning
by the gray-backed vultures who
polish these bones into clean, stark
markers

like flags, reminders of the great
migration that rides with the seasons
and rains, by no clock but the turn
of the earth.

Saying, as the sun sears them white,
my horns remain strong and black,
curved, evidence of my own mighty
passing though brought down and
devoured.

Can you see us?

Where grass with rise rain-ripened
and green, caress the ghosts of
our backs in the sway of the breeze.
Rise through and around these bones,
and wait for the next crossing,
the great safari from the Serengeti.

White flags, here forever,
on The Mara. The last trace
of this pact we made to life.

_________________________

Author, Speaker, Consultant Heloise Jones is founder of Fierce Heart™ Productions. Her book The Writer’s Block Myth is described as the best book about what being a writer is. Heloise is intensely interested in culture and how it shows up both in works and a writer’s voice. Visit HeloiseJones.com