Somewhere there is a valley
That shoulders two imposing mountains.
One shouts like Vesuvius
The other holds secrets,
Covered in a drab cloak - olive.
Trees shaded
Boulders buried
Cut off
Pulse pinched
The shouting’s roar unheard
Reverberates and echoes
Against the crackless cloak.
If nothing there to hear it
Is a noise made?
In between the two
No distinguished division
Except the negative cat
A black panther.
Bristled fur rises from its back
Spiked
Startled
Aroused
Aware
It divides the tension
Pierces through
With ease.
Cloaked lets out a grin.
Shouts get louder
Saliva thrown into the valley.
Burns
Then recedes
Sinks
Then stales
Panther immune
Always comes - everyday
Shouter spews more
As the cloak is pulled over further
The whiskers twitch on the
Panther’s face like a freshly
Killed snake with nerves firing.
Contract and
Sudden relax
An eye bulges
Then still.
Sensing the tight air
The panther’s muscles
Double in size and power
Empowering shoulders
Rippling back
Angular jaw
Cut haunches
The screams are silenced.
It sees the monster growing
In the valley and
Wonders when his screams
Will be answered.
