Waiting with Elephants.

How was it, washing those great gray animals,
the feel of rubber skin meeting
the smell of confined wild

while your sensitive beasts
stood proud and protective--
almost statues--around you?

A happy zooman you were in the photograph,
dazzled as a provider should be by the development

of your animals.
Now among these
siblings of mine,

I watch two of them pace about their small
patch of ground, wrinkled eared and round,

and wonder if those steadied, circular
steps mean they idle as I do for your return

to caress the rough surface of
their backs or feed them.

With no other human
fathers present to protest
your significance,

I grasp the fence and join the duo
in their waiting dance.