Gregory Djanikian: Dark Wings
Now is the time to say
something for the animals
felled by gunshot and broadax
cluster bomb and bayonet
who have lain curled in their own blood
without succor or consolation
their flanks torn apart,
their fibulas shattered,
the muscles of their rippled
animal strengths untendoned,
horses in their heavy tranquility,
dogs snuffling the marshy grass
by river bank, by well-spring,
the sleek, undaunted cats, the goats
meandering by olive groves
without notion of bullet or
impending boom of artillery,
a hot sharp sting of pain
felt in the deepest folds
where nothing, neither claw, nor tooth,
nor talon, nor the brightest shoots
of light has ever reached
Gregory Djanikian, So I Will Till the Ground, 2007, Carnegie-Mellon University Press
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