Trump

When I try to start a poem with,
“If I could only be an elephant,”
it ends with too much sadness
to begin.

Fierce love disrupted
through culling’s lethal game.

Circus crowds
with ooooos and ahhhhhs,
pay for elephant chains.

It’s over before it begins.

Humanity holds the trump card
yearning for cash and coins.

They win.

Ladies and Gentlemen!
In the center ring!

Brenda Warren 2014

7 thoughts on “Trump

  1. Brenda, followed your bread crumbs back to their beginnings. We peel back our awareness in layers as thin as onion skin. Today, I found a certain synchronicity in your process, that closely resembles my own. Thank you for the confirmation. Who knows, one day we may find the similarities between hawks and elephants.

    Elizabeth

    Poet-Hawk II

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