The flower is disguised
as a lizard diving headfirst into
itself
The hunters have travelled
ten miles inland with a hundred
thousand invisible seeds attached
to their trousers
Sometimes, believing themselves
to be set upon by an unseen enemy
they fill their clay pots with sticky
harvest, walk further into
the forest they do not know
Unseen movement becomes
sound pulled closer, sound to
the hunter an idea in alphabet
Eyes to detail in the humus
they stumble past the goatish
odour of their prey
1 comment:
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