He liked walking <br />among the subtle shades, <br />the striking nuances <br />of colours, <br />the seemingly <br />countless hues <br />and the distant sounds <br />of the jungle, <br />with its dangers, <br />known and unknown. <br /> <br />This was part of his life, <br />his DNA <br />had been imprinted <br />with the love, <br />the unquestioning acceptance <br />of the wild. <br />And, for all of his short life <br />the wind <br />had always been at his back. <br /> <br />The morning sun in his eyes, <br />he made swift progress, <br />it was hard going to climb this hill, <br />Elephant Mountain they called it <br />and it soon lived up to its name. <br /> <br />A mother and calf were feeding, <br />their backs turned, contented giants. <br />He venture closer, being downwind <br />and some 70 meters away, <br /> <br />when she turned, <br />rigidity gripped her body, <br />ears spread wide, <br />eyes glowering, <br />she started trumpeting <br />and charged, <br />at maximum speed. <br /> <br />Brave by tradition he called her bluff, <br />wildly waving his arms, <br />facing her <br />in crazy-eyed determination. <br />She was not to be persuaded <br />and, <br />as she caught up with him <br />she used her trunk <br />to lift, then toss him, <br />helpless bundle, <br />into the tall grass <br />where he lay still. <br /> <br />Her tusks raised, <br />she stepped forward <br />and stabbed them down, <br />twice. <br />His eyes closed, <br />at first from <br />the piercing pain <br />and, minutes later <br />from death. <br />It was his life <br />and he would, <br />gladly, <br />live it all again.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wind-at-his-back/
