Here’s my draft for today, Friday 05.03.19.
there is this at the zoo (for PS)
one drowsy-eyed, graying-mane aged
he lies exhausted of being
on permanent display, on the caged stage
that customary thrusting lion’s dying paw
pounding with the frustration of finality
the artificial ground where he will end
no longer king of all that small confine
he surveys, remembering the savannah
vaguely, hardly how once striking like lightning
the quick quick flex of claw and maim
a cloudy recall of the spring and tear and kill
all gone, a captive now, the ponder of eternity
a grope of such uneasy grasp, imagined misaimed
reaching and missing, making that same mistake
time and again, his pictured shame, a decline
of instinct so acute he finally withdraws
one closing lonely time, into the dark
comforting den, his at last resting from
those million eyes and fingers pointing
one final regal turn from the sun and limp
into the dark resignation of nothingingness
but maybe then there is this at the zoo
that with his fainting breath and final closing eye
comes the sudden vivid full recall, all
of everything that he had lived when he was free
and as that ending heartbeat knocks
the door to a supremely ranging peace
beyond some cage swings wide
welcoming his joyful spirit into the open