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Melancholy Primates.

Updated on March 15, 2011

Melancholy Primates



Faded memories of trees,

pregnant with vines and bananas,

the sweet smells of rotting vegetation

at ground level and the tremor of fear

when the lions approached.


That rush of adrenaline

in the bark shinning scramble

to the safety of the canopy above.

The warmth of a snuggling mate

when the rains spattered

chill pelts on furred backs.

The carefree swing of

tree to tree ascensions

where the warm sun graced

many shrill chatterings of glee.

Sips from a bubbling brook

or a cool emerald pond,

one eye on its sweet bounty,

the other always seeking predators.

And of course the endless regret

at sneaking in to snitch those

tempting raisins and chocolate

only to be netted

by the trappers

several years ago.

All that was cherished

replaced by drab concrete gray

with jaundiced scatterings

of limp jungle fauna

amidst splatters of excrement.

Some mucky water in a tin pan

and a once daily bucket of slop

fought over like creme brulee'.

Plus that ugly black rubber ring

to swing on when the mood strikes.

This is what it feels like

when what's wild cries!


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