Your lumbering footsteps drawing near
sparked the story of thunder, for ancient man's myths

yet your renown was for innocent gentleness
herald of new beginnings, with the season of tilling soil

in harmony with lop-eared rabbits
green ponds, fronds and soft pods in open air

your scent surprised with its hint of fresh-grown mint and chives
no need for artificial tampering with the body odour

along with the earth, you yourself groaned beneath your weight
but were never heard to be disgruntled, even if your joints ached

your head disproportionate to your body’s size
showed an off-balance droop during some of your moves

your skin’s design was in dark, inviting mosaic
leathery-shingled to the touch

if your few predators dared to sample your meat
they met with colocynth, and their stomachs purged

the only other tough edge, prone to incite fear —
a clumsiness benign but imposing with your mammoth size

your species long extinct by now, its ghost resonates
when the earth turns inside out, in a quake.

01/26/2006