The Song of the Hyena


Her body's cautious, low-swaying,

as she's nearing the fray,

where Lion and his lioness

with vicious passion play.


Their fluid limbs are powerful;

her own feel rather slack -

It's not from inactivity,

merely, watching her back.


Their amber eyes are flaming fire,

her own are shallow pools;

their empassioned fur is blazing,

her own - spiked, muddied - cools.


Their leonine abandon makes

Hyena start away.

"Bloody arrogant lions here,"

her bold grunts gruffly say.


"There are those turned on by passion

and those who slope along.

My gruff grunt is not a roaring,

but Pure Hyena Song."



copyright Pam Brigden

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