Thurman P. Woodfork


Dappled sunlight, flashing gold,
Through shadowed greenery, soon to unfold
Into a horrific roar of murderous sounds.
Chattering rifles and mortar rounds
Explode the quiet into death and screams.
As sunbeams dance, glitter and gleam
From bleeding flesh and bits of bone,
Bodies fall, quiver, and moan.
Not far away a tiger holds still
Crouched above her fresh-caught kill.
When the fury of the nearby fray
Shudders to an end and fades away,
She cautiously sniffs the ominous air
Then quietly ghosts away from there.
As the sound of distant choppers rise
She glances back with feral eyes;
The sophisticated ways of men
Are far beyond her primal ken.

Submitted for the August 2002 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Sunshine