The Watcher
Epistolary Poem
Dear Ranger
I am sorry
I didn't oblige you
And make an appearance
For your paying guests.
You can't blame me
For being wary
Of people.
After all
The guest farm
Right next door
Allows canned hunting
By wealthy tourists.
The lions are bred
And raised by hand
In captivity
Then,
Their caregivers
Release them
Into a caged enclosure
To be hunted down
As trophies.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Leopards are not spared
This barbaric treatment
Although fewer of us
Are murdered this way
Our dead heads removed
To grace the walls
Mouths gaping open
In a humiliated grimace
Called a fierce pose
By the false hunters.
Run off our traditional land
By grasping humans
Who have the right
To life and liberty,
Freedom from slavery
And torture,
Freedom of opinion
And expression,
The right to work
And to education.
What about me?
Here in the reserve
I'm relatively safe
Provided I don't follow
My natural instincts
To travel and
Stay within the fences
Built by you
I know you're a good one
But frankly,
It still grates me.
Then you bring
Truck loads of visitors
Who chatter
Point
And gawk
while rattling chip packets
And taking photographs.
SNAP! RATTLE! SNAP!
Nothing is sacrosanct,
You invade
Every part
Of my life
... Eating
... Sleeping
... Mating
My babies
Fodder
For prattling spectators
Hooing and cooing
Making fools of themselves.
And so I hide
Deep within
The long grass
Or up high
In a tree,
Dreaming away
The long, quiet days.
Sometimes
I shake a whisker
Or twitch an ear
Sending the viewers
Into a frenzy
Hopefully anticipating
A leopard sighting
I lie
And grin
Thinking
And now
Who's watching
Who?
From
The Leopard in the tree
About the Creator
Robbie Cheadle
Robbie Cheadle loves to create in a variety of mediums including words, cake, fondant, charcoal, and oil pastels. She enjoys writing fantasy stories for children, poetry, and paranormal stories for adults in historical settings.
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Comments (7)
Your poem was like a leopard leap, Roberta. Swift and dangerous - but this time to the big cat itself. I enjoyed your poetry storytelling. Compelling and an eye opener.
Wow, Robbie. What a poem. Canned hunting is sickening to me. I feel less distressed about preserves. At least the animals are safe, and free to hide if they choose. This was a powerful poem, my friend.
Oh my goodness, Robbie. You captured the essence of the animal's emotions, along with the cruelty of men. Outstanding work!
This is beautiful, Robbie. I've never understood the desire people have for hunting. I guess this guy is better off, but I understand. Well done.
I didn't know what to expect, but I'm HUGELY delighted to have read it. It is truly wonderful, Robbie. You deserve enormous congratulations to have created all that.
Inhumane un-humans have baited and held guided hunts for centuries displaying our ability to be the most evil creatures on earth. Though painful, this letter needs to be heard. 🥰. Thank you.
I like this one a lot, Robbie! Very unique entry.