The Rhino’s Parting Slam

We rhinos rapidly and generously
march to the doors
the jaws of extinction
donors of distinction
anxious to give our horn
to adorn the daggers of the proud
and to be ground for cures found
to enhance man’s ego, we go
even further.
We bleed and die,
no need to try
to take our horn humanely.
Vainly, insanely
we give our lives to make you rich.
But there’s a hitch.
If we go, you go.
Some slow…
we know…
For from our horn
your power is born
but dreams forlorn
are lost when posthumous ledgers
show the cost, and magic horns
are ground to dust that surely must
be worth the earth,
for no new birth will bring you more.
That’s for sure.

from the private field journal of Steve Morvell

from the private field journal of Steve Morvell

with thanks to Steve Morvell for sharing his poignant pen and wash sketch of a black rhino made in the field in South Africa.

a related poem: The Rhino Saw


About anne norman

musician, shakuhachi player, author, poet, tea lover...
This entry was posted in Angry Anne Poems, Environmental essays and poems, poems and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The Rhino’s Parting Slam

  1. Pingback: the rhino saw | peripatetic musings

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