pangolin

Photo by Louis Mornaud on Unsplash

pangolin
danglin’
from the jocund tree
slurps her fill of ivory ants
swims the sun-yolked muddy streams

savannas
afford her
lee where threats are strewn
she keeps herself to herself
and strolls the skirts of cameroon

quickly she coils
on the soils
when smooth milieus curd
she fortifies her black belly
that teeth of snake and lion gird

her thick-scaled
coat of mail
conceals her secret gland
(her means to stun with stench)
she still succumbs to contraband

the danger-men
in poachers’ dens
disturb the rhythmed maze
pluck her from her habitat
sell her scales and meat to braise

paint dark pearl’s
“normal” world
with gluttonous butcher knives
she’s no longer plentiful
extinction’s nearby call is rife

pangolin
danglin’
from the jocund tree
hears the crunch of vulture’s foot
why can’t law just let her be