The Watcher

Dear Ranger

I am sorry

I didn't oblige you

And make an appearance

For your paying guests.

You can't blame me

For being wary

Of people.

After all

The guest farm

Right next door

Allows canned hunting

By wealthy tourists.

The lions are bred

And raised by hand

In captivity

Then,

Their caregivers

Release them

Into a caged enclosure

To be hunted down

As trophies.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Leopards are not spared

This barbaric treatment

Although fewer of us

Are murdered this way

Our dead heads removed

To grace the walls

Mouths gaping open

In a humiliated grimace

Called a fierce pose

By the false hunters.

Run off our traditional land

By grasping humans

Who have the right

To life and liberty,

Freedom from slavery

And torture,

Freedom of opinion

And expression,

The right to work

And to education.

What about me?

Here in the reserve

I'm relatively safe

Provided I don't follow

My natural instincts

To travel and

Stay within the fences

Built by you

I know you're a good one

But frankly,

It still grates me.

Then you bring

Truck loads of visitors

Who chatter

Point

And gawk

while rattling chip packets

And taking photographs.

SNAP! RATTLE! SNAP!

Nothing is sacrosanct,

You invade

Every part

Of my life

... Eating

... Sleeping

... Mating

My babies

Fodder

For prattling spectators

Hooing and cooing

Making fools of themselves.

And so I hide

Deep within

The long grass

Or up high

In a tree,

Dreaming away

The long, quiet days.

Sometimes

I shake a whisker

Or twitch an ear

Sending the viewers

Into a frenzy

Hopefully anticipating

A leopard sighting

I lie

And grin

Thinking

And now

Who's watching

Who?

From

The Leopard in the tree