Not that tenuous flamingo
red in its wetness
it drips in pieces
cursing its too thin legs
tripping over memories of Mumbai

Not that antelope
stirring images of Delhi
it strays from the herd
pounding its hooved feet
on elephant hides
long since dried into pavement

Not that child
hiding in the well
watching time devour coins
that pass for wishes

Not that vulture
shredding flesh from courtyards
raging against a too blue sky

Have mercy on the pitiless
executioner
lost in power
lost in the handle of an axe

Have mercy on that child
whose prayers flutter as flamingo knees knock

Have mercy on the vulture circling with
strips of flesh that flow
like ribbons
scattering syllables
with each thwack
of the executioner’s axe

~bwarren 23
The prompt for Day 6 asked that we look at a poem in a language we do not read, and write a poem based on it. The poem I selected can be found here. To be honest, I read it in English once, and based the poem on my impressions from both the English and Peter Verhelst’s original poem.