Driving past the wildlife park
near the edge of the highway,
parts of me are torn away
like an old perforated stamp
when I think of
an old, confused rhinoceros
attempting to moo

or a panting lioness
helping wrangle wild horses
on an open Texas prairie
(a cowboy, perhaps, rewards her
with a belly rub)

or the forlorn ostrich
who stares out into
fields of wildflowers
with no real place
to bury his head.




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