I watch
Trolling along
The cliff
Hanging angle of fence
Head to tail
In their procession
Stopping to forage in the ants
The cling to the vines
In a draping oasis
Head to tail
This caravan
Of sunken elephant
Grey, brown bodies to the sun
I watch
And I am transported to another place and time
Of sultans with their beasts of burden
Covered in silks
Floral robes blanket them
And carry me to faraway lands and oases
My mind streams on the wanderers
The meandering strays from the flock
I too would offer my crest
Blazing its ruby gold
When threatened with the theatrics
Of tribe poaching
Oh, how I love the season
Of new lizards
And all their antiquity
They bring
To a simply groomed

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