A Mother’s Work

When the cheetah runs
she doesn’t run in place
she runs for her family
for survival
motherhood is her calling
tornado in a teacup
twisting, zipping
the impala banks left
pirouetting in a flash

The cheetah isn’t finished

She glides in sand
paws stretched
back sleek as a bullet
tumbling in a flurry of dust and hooves
predator and prey
dance on a knife edge

Dust settles
and the cheetah rises
dragging her kill
so she may feed her cubs
and survive another day



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s