NaPM April 11 2014

[ChristopherSea]

Clay Mammoths

We traversed blue ice sheets
garbed in sienna matted cloaks,
a fog snorting caravan
in colossal exodus.
Our clarions resounded
caution over ivory,
crossing a waning isthmus
under Pleistocene skies,
the Aurora Borealis
as our sole guide.

Many brethren were lost
to glacial crevasse
on our migration campaign
for new habitat.
When destinations were found,
we fanned to the south,
escaping barren ice
for fertile ocher grain.

We grazed spacious prairies,
deemed ourselves secure,
while bipedal watchers
fashioned lance and spear.
Why would the gods
give us bulk, tusk and trunk,
knowing we were no match
for Homo sapiens.