by Jayne Scott

The Bull Elephant

He stood alone in the evening sun,
beneath the baobab tree.
Lifting his trunk in a lazy arc,
his eyes carefully watching me.

His gray ears flapping, his head alert,
listening for every sound.
Thoughtfully chewing a leafy twig,
his foot lifted just off the ground.

In awe I watched, and he watched me back,
not in fear but in mutual respect.
As the sun slowly sank and the sky grew dark,
his wrinkled frame left a lasting effect.

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Poetry: Elephants

by Jayne Scott

Poetry: Elephants

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