| Noel: |
Has this author been to Africa? |
| Gwen: |
Who knows or cares? Let the poem speak for itself – ta heck with the author. |
| Noel: |
I can't do that . . . each poem seems linked in countless way to its creator. |
Serengeti Spring:
An African Voyage
High in the branches
of the Serengeti plain
where sun scorches earth
lizards rest on acacia bark
waiting for insects to pass
In a different world –
occupying the same space
giraffes nibble on baobab flowers
while moving across freshly verdant plains.
As their tails swish
i hear a faint hiss
and the savannah explodes
in my nostrils.
