Joshu the elephant – his belly full of grass
and body exhausted
with
trying to extract the more precious water
from the less precious grass.
expired
alongside the mudhole
that offered neither.
After a visit from the lion clan
and a day in the sun
Joshu’s body lies exposed and fragrant.
Enter Mumon the hippo.
Who strolls in from the shining east
one morning.
Stares in puzzlement:
He thinks he sees an elephant,
but knows he smells grass
ripened into sweet warm mulch by sun
and yet … something else.
Mumon passes once,
and a second time,
slowly sifting memories to see if
he has ever before eaten grass
that looked like an elephant.
Fatigue, hunger and thirst have made the lions
surrounding the kill
indifferent to moving stock and non-competitors.
They wait for their turn at the elephant,
lacking the energy to bring down Mumon's thick hide.
But in their squinting eyes
they see precious fluids,
evaporate from the body with every moment.
In a different moment . . . patience may give way.
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