poet leopard

there's a leopard in my garden

I see him sometimes when

I'm passing by the window

in reflection now and then

he must be there he seems so real

his colour never fades

I see him in the spotted bush

where sunlight shares the shade

he's moving very stealthily

yet all his life a rover

breaking thin veiled social twigs

to logs worth bounding over

he steps deliberately cognizant

on patterns of the past

and each time there is a clearing

it's clearer than the last

in the mottles halved by sunlight

where the ground is wet and dry

is the fixed-gaze of the leopard

as he follows his sure eye

the green and brown and pitch black

test the whitest white of day

and makes him quite elusive

yet I saw him yesterday

the way his foreleg elongates

and points then pads the clay

as tenpin bowling laneways couch

the best bowl of the day

no-one on earth can hurt him

unless he fakes he doesn't know

just to find someone to play with

and follow where they go

oh leopard I love your majesty

for your stance and strength and growl

but mostly for the way you seek

your track in silent prowl

there's a leopard in the garden

I see him sometimes when

I'm passing by the window

in reflection now and then

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