A Tiger in the zoo[ Pome]

                                                                     [Leslie norris]

He stalks in his vivid stripes 

The few steps of his cage,

On pads of velvet quitet,

In his quiet rage.

He should be lurking in shadow,

Sliding through long grass

Near the water hole 

Where plump deer pass.

He should be snarling around houses

At the jungle's edge,

Baring his white fangs, his claws,

Terrorising the village;

But he's locked in a concrete call,

His strength behind bars,

stalking the length of his cage,

Ignoring visitors.

He hears the last voice at night,

And stares with his brilliant eyes 

At the brilliant stars.