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Remember to take note of the code (poe1-poe39) and to vote here for first place, here for second place and here for third place.
She was leading,
they lolloping, a-gambol;
a mother with three’s hunger,
and they were uncaring,
a-gambol, trusting.
The herd moved on steadily
with the sureness of the ram,
flicking tufted hocks forward,
blinded by the wind.
The wind, and the silence
in the shade
smudging her against the earth
below the tree.
Into the bright stillness
a moving darkness
stretching down the slope
and the desperate drumming
of hooves veering
from the smooth curve,
tail floating high, of Death.
His death in the dust,
life jerking against her hold.
Now see, my children,
how I drag his body
from the searching eyes
of the thieves above.
Eat, my children,
before the thieves of the plain
sidle close.
My only strength is in my speed.
(Written after seeing a female cheetah kill a springbok ram close to Mata Mata in the Kgalagadi Transfrontier National Park)