His new notebook’s front cover
was patterned like the body of a zebra.
He was excited to fill it with poems
about galloping freely in sun-drenched
deserts, enjoying the feeling of using
all of his muscles to their full potential,
resting in the safety of a pack of zebras
that understood his life. But who was he
kidding? Every page would be attacked,
killed, eaten, by a lion he could never
hide from.

© Carl Burkitt 2023