jungle

I like to sit on top of the highest branch,

On the highest tree.

No one can get to me up there,

Not even the lion or the hyena.

I can see everything in the world below.

I can choose my lunch carefully,

Spot my dinner miles away.

My claws are always ready to become my fork.

I survive by being extremely shy and sensitive.

Any noise, any visual intrusion into my clear horizon,

Any unfamiliar sound or smell

And I flee, I am out of here.

I move to another clear horizon

And to familiar sounds and scents.

I am not interested in any conflict,

Or any sort of confrontation.

I raise above the masses,

I don’t eat off the ground,

And won’t stoop for any low shrub.

My neck allows me to spot danger miles away,

Before it becomes a personal threat.

My legs are proportionate to my neck,

Just in case I have to run for my life.