Tiger

Death is my sister
beside me, slipping
silent through
the jungle. She
sharpens my teeth,
polishes my claws,
and I lead her
to the red scent
of life, and
together we eat.

But now, I feel
her cold hands
measuring the
space between

my ribs, and soon
I will turn to her
and offer her
my throat.

For earthweal, where Sherry asks us to think about the world of big cats.

10 thoughts on “Tiger

  1. Oh, heartbreaking. So vivid. So sadly true….seeing the ribs on the big cats, the polar bears, the wolves, is just awful. Your powerful poem really hits home. So glad you wrote to my prompt, Sarah.

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  2. I really liked this for the indeterminate person/animal/persona accompanying the speaker through a forest. I read “sister” as person and beast and guiding spirit. The “eat and be eaten” law of nature which we have largely forgotten is so present here. – Brendan

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