Why a Lion
In my dreams
Magnificent, bedecked with
Autumnal flowers,
Staring. Why?

An alarm shocks the dark
Then stops
To unsettle the lion’s gaze.

It is no Lion.
A Tiger instead
Festooned in Springtime
Hoping to burn bright
Knowing Nature says
‘Not this time.”

Now give the Lynx her day
In a soundless place,
A place
Perfection sings its
Lithesome song
Dressed in choral garb
She needs no fashioned cloak.
In itself she is enough.

Charlene James
Amissville, Virginia