The same way hyenas of grief travel
In packs, then circle your heart, what’s left of it.
What would the lions be if the lions
Pulled you down, which parts did they take?
The elephants in the distance
Know distance. Even years later they recognize
The bleached bones of those they have loved.
They stomp and sniff and cry out in deliriums
Of loss and move on once more. The buzzards
Though are counting on Good Luck. What they find
They find. They’ll take what they take when
The hyenas stop splitting sinew, bone and laughs
Between their teeth. Your blood covers russet desert,
Absorbed by it. I won’t be coming to save you.