Lion

Silence then the grassy plains
tremble as
a roar slits
the naked air
It
stares down the afternoon sun
Those eyes orange brown
indifferent beautiful tameless
innocent terribly so
The deep-chested giant growls its mane
moves wild about its head
its four-inches long
canines flash
a deep-throated yawn
follows and all's
silent again

Tock-Tock

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock….
Old Adams and Eves on the ageless rock
awash in oceans that spit shells and muck.
The shrinking Earth can never run nor walk
as wilful living do around the clock,

so it must spin and spin as timeless talk.

***

It’s late at night, I’m counting sheep, a knock,
it's wind? I thought of Keats’s sweet hemlock.
And sleep has fled.  A tick…though not a tock.
My kitten's, on the windowsill yawning
enframed by stars where no human race is,

no Eliot's cat, one who could disconnect
nothing from nothing. Sleepy…nothing...tock.