The Death Of An Elephant - Gianfranco Pagnucci

[Larry Robinson]

The Death Of An Elephant

a transformation

She stood
apart from the grazing herd
motionless,
except for a slowed
curl of her trunk,
her head lowered,
her great ears flopped forward
like a closing umbrella
as the bull
came to sniff.

When she dropped to her haunches,
the herd
screaming and trumpeting,
thundered,
a fallen half-moon 
around her.

Her forelegs collapsed
and she slumped to her belly,
a Dagon come tumbling down.
Only the young ones
were allowed
to touch her now:
one laid his trunk on her back;
one nuzzled her ear;
one strained at her great fallen rump
as if pushing toward life
and learning of death.

Then the great bull,
head lowered,
tried to lift her with a roar.
He moved to her head and tried to lift her.
He tore a trunkful of dry grass
and stuffed it in her mouth
over the dust on her sagged lip
to lift her.
He tried to mount her into life.
she heaved to her side
and was dead.

It was sunset
late African spring
and December,
as a restless
feeding  herd came
one by one to the gray body
and moved off
together over the ridge
into the dusk.

	- Gianfranco Pagnucci
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