We at the wheel
in a spell of wandering
amongst a whorl of wildebeests and zebras
fanned out as far as our eyes can grasp
their number smudge the faint horizon
The beests’ beards stream
their humps heave up like graves
eyes as patient as rounded mountains
zebras stiff-maned dark bands wound around
stout bodies smell the rains and hear the grass
We at the wheel sober and stoic
see from a hill the killing plains
a lion leaps on brawny wildebeest
hyena sisters team to bring down zebra young
stricken zebra mother trips gallops on
Ahead passage to the grasses the Mara River
where steep cliffs line both sides
wildebeest bulls mill on the edge
apress of a million behind
the boldest lead the brash plunge
Splintered legs and crushed bodies crash into ruby waters
alive with crocodiles that seize and drag them down
the ruined and young succumb to strong currents
hordes surge ahead dark bodies pressing
on and up the cliff to young grasses of the Massai Mara
