Proud with Teeth

ivy scales creep from silent shrubbery

he shows himself, proud with teeth

gentle blades of keratin—sharp as ever

balls of fur run in fear

eggs wish they had legs

hum the roar, hum the roar and cackle

rest for the day, it is bright outside

hunger with eyes of blood red

I would flee too, it is too cold to sleep

the trees are its home, under the trees

the trees are its play pen, where sport is made

of smaller beings, less fearsome as some

the beast, strong in its patience, strongest part

it will wait for you to drink and snatch at your neck

beware, beware I tell you

we are all balls of fur, and we all need to drink