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| Kerry O'Connor @skyloverpoetry |
They shadow their way into being
as night turns to dust inseparable these
smudge-painted dogs of Africa consume
the yellow plains sing with the centuries
to the first star rising over the eastern
foothills whose name is Khwezi morning
mist-tangled grasslands are wakening
here a flight of egrets startled from sleep
now a bark a whine a soft-falling paw
a flicker of white tails as the pack filters
away through the thorn scrub a vanishing
trail all paths lead to this dawn of erasure
For Get Listed! March Edition hosted by Sanaa in The Imaginary Garden.
The African Wild Dog, known in isiZulu as Inkentshane but also called the Painted Wolf, is a canid native to sub-Saharan Africa and the only extant member of the genus Lycaon Pictus, an individual species not of genus Lupus. The 2016 population was estimated at roughly 39 sub-populations containing 6,600 adults, only 1,400 of which were reproductive. The decline of these populations is ongoing, due to habitat fragmentation, human persecution and disease outbreaks In South Africa there are fewer than 400 free-ranging wild dogs left – 130 of them in the Kruger National Park, and 160 in KwaZulu-Natal.
"They shadow their way into being as night turns to dust," this is so vivid in its portrayal of the decline of the species. I love the sensitivity with which this poem is penned, Kerry!💜 Thank you so much for writing to the prompt.
ReplyDeleteThank you for providing the perfect words to steer my way through the falling darkness, Sanaa.
Deletewow - I've come back with fresh eyes to enjoy this poem Kerry. By my day's light, I feel like I've just been plucked and dropped into a whole new world, on the African plains, literally a new adventure. And I appreciate how the well chosen words alight the darkness, the space, the creatures and their activities. My initial reading was abrupted, I had trouble with the flow and line breaks, but a fresh brain makes this sing to me, like it's some ancient song you've allow us the courtesy and blessing to slip into. This poem speaks of the mystical, the natural old-world order that plays out when we see darkness and another world comes alive. It's a great poem, one to savour, because it has this slightly dream-like feeling, as if we're reaching through veils in the dark, are senses tingling alive for it!
ReplyDeleteI'm really enjoying your exploration into your homeland and all its wonders - its refreshingly intimate. :)
hope you're having a wonderful day/evening
Thank you, Pat, especially for your feedback regarding the phrasing and line breaks. I have been testing out this W.S. Merwin manner of writing without punctuation breaking up the parts of sentences, rather allowing one image to flow into the next. I do not know if I have been wholly successful. I am glad you came back for a second read. if you are interested, i did my own reading which is on my Instagram page.
Deletehttps://www.instagram.com/p/BvjmyddFBJX/
I think you're on the right track with the technical approach. As I mentioned, initially, I was stifled by it, but I was tired, so that didn't help at all. But reading it again, and then again, there is something that works within this formatting - for me, and makes me appreciate it for its vibrancy. I think it fits the content too. (it might be less effective if talking about Sunday tea, but then, who knows?) I'll definitely have a listen, so thanks for the link - for sure, it'll add another dimension/aspect.
DeleteAnd I just wanted to echo Kim's comment about your use of terms, smudge-painted dogs etc. The way you've painted the darkness and light is so beautiful and atmospheric. A fresh poem written in a different and engaging perspective. Certainly not dry or dusty!
I always appreciate your insights into the skin and bones of poetry, Pat. I miss that a lot, so many thanks for taking such an interest in my poem.
DeleteI am in awe of the part of Africa you live in... you bring it alive and what was once mysterious to me is so much more tangible now... The opening line is genius.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Margaret. Even I would have to drive miles to see a pack of wild dogs in their own habitat, but I do love my spot in the African landscape.
DeleteI love both poem and illustration, Kerry. I had never heard of the Painted Wolf or African Wild Dog, and am shocked that now I am aware of it, it is in danger of extinction. I enjoyed how you used different types of shade in the opening lines, especially the phrase ‘They shadow their way into being’ and ‘smudge-painted dogs’. I also very much like the sharp contrast of the ‘yellow plains’ and the phrase ‘all paths lead to this dawn of erasure’.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kim. Colour was an important part of this poem, and Sanaa's words lent themselves very well to what I needed.
DeleteI reread this and again your visuals have me seeing the wild dogs and their terrain. I so wish I could travel there. Maybe some day I will.
ReplyDeleteAfrica is not so very far away from Texas!
Deleteaway through the thorn scrub a vanishing
ReplyDeletetrail all paths lead to this dawn of erasure
Beautifully set and a classic close Kerry. Always a perfect word crafting from you Ma'am!
Hank
Thank you, Hank!
DeleteI recently watch a segment on Animal Planet about the Painted Wolf. I found it very interesting. It seems they are running out of space and they need large spaces to survive. Humans need to consider this when they start building for personal gain.
ReplyDeleteNow, I know why I was drawn to your blog to read. Synchronicity of sorts. So glad, I stopped over.
I love when the synchronocity of cosmic threads shows itself.
DeleteYour African wild dog sounds a bit like our dingo.They roam in packs like wolves and are a protected species.Any popularity of these animals was diminished after the Azaria Chamberlain case.They did not have a reputation as being dangerous before that.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this trip with you. I am now aware of the wild dog, the painted wolf. It is sad to think that it is in danger of extinction. We as humans are so heartless in our treatment of creatures on this earth. the last three lines impart the sadness of this vanishing animal. A bittersweet ending to your series.
ReplyDeleteI love African Wild Dogs, and this poem suits them perfectly. Love this.
ReplyDeleteI love "the yellow plains sing with the centuries", and the soft padding footsteps of the wild dogs. May they live long.
ReplyDelete