Under a starry arc a trembling song begins
groans of a motherless wildebeest
yips and yelps of hyenas closing on
the wounded moans of a wild buffalo
lions with throaty rumbles mate and quarrel
from the deepest shadow something
not quite dead pierces the sky
prickles the hairs on my arm
Outside my tent the sight of a thousand love affairs
passion so bright the drunken moths
embrace streetlights with frantic wings
Here the night's imperative is transparent
Here life and death press hard on the living