being the hare, searching the savannah
i see the giraffe standing at the watering hole

perhaps a lion is out there, perhaps hungry
perhaps seeing the giraffe as well

being the hare, there on the savannah
i say nothing as I watch for the lion
i say nothing as I watch the giraffe

later, I am thirsty, I leap a thousand times
across the dry grass until I am there
with the giraffe

‘giraffe, do you worry that you are spotted
by a lion at the watering hole?”

perhaps the giraffe is scared, perhaps hungry
perhaps seeing the lion as well

being the hare, there on the savannah
i wait as the giraffe says nothing
I wait as the giraffe watches for lions

now, I am sated, i say, “giraffe,
you will always be spotted
and you will always be tall enough to see
off into the distance and run”

perhaps the giraffe is laughing, perhaps angry
perhaps knowing I’m a fool as well

being the hare, there on the savannah
i smile as the giraffe leaves me wondering
about the beauty of the one that runs
everything
without claws or teeth.