Pacing back and forth, back and forth
Concrete not earth under his paws
The last thylacine craves freedom.
Striped bronze fur reflects the dying sun
Though his dying will have no glory,
no words, no laurels from the wars,
just: ‘Extinct’.
His prize - a day to remember
the massacre. We weep at his grave,
demanding action and cheap food;
demonstrate for change and more houses,
more space for humanity. Our species
triumphantly insisting, we will save
the world.
On 7 September 1936 the last thylacine, a marsupial species which had been in existence since the last Ice Age, froze to death in a zoo in Tasmania because his keeper forgot to lock him in the warmth of his den. The 7 September is now National Threatened Species Day in Australia. There is a short video clip of this animal on YouTube. What a loss to the world!
Very powerful poem and very sad.
ReplyDeleteVivien, I love this. It taught me something I didn't know, in a very sensitive and memorable way. How sad for the animal and, indeed for the keeper.
ReplyDeleteA very moving and educational poem. I didn't know about the plight of the Thylacine before but I do now. Thank you, Vivien.
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