Tiger


Tiger is born of tiger.
Looks like tiger.
Eats the same meat,
Does not complain
About its stripes.
The black slices on
Auburn red flashes
Like sun splitting thin
Black slate.
Does not complain
It looks the same.
It eats to become
Its father, to become
Its mother.

– Frieda Hughes

 

About Stayne

Welcome to my page and thank you so much for stopping by. I feel honoured to share some of your precious time. These are just a collection of thoughts that have popped into my head and I have managed to store here. I am hoping that one day I will find the time and inspiration to return to these thoughts to edit and craft poems out of them...ah maybe one day.
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