Wild

For Nana

The tigers you see from the entrance,
They framed my childhood.
I imagined them roaring and moving
And living wild all from the comfort of 
your living room.

In that little house on Brown Street,
You let me play,
You let me bring in a bowl of snails,
You understood that I was strange. 
When they escaped you’d hug me as I cried,
You’d say;
“What can you expect? They’re snails, they’re wild”.

And like those snails in that bowl, 
Not clawing but creeping slowly,
Slowly, then all at once you were gone. 

They say I am your double, 
Two cockatoos side by side,
Sitting on a power line ,
But in my mind you are a tawny-crowned honey-eater,
And I am the lyrebird that mimics your song. 
We are both wild, we are both free,
But you will always be better than me. 

I don’t know how to reconcile
These feelings that are welling up inside,
I feel guilt, I feel grief, I feel love.
I feel like a caterpillar, 
Stuck in my cocoon.
But someday, someway,
I hope to be like you,
An unapologetic, free, 
funny, kind, stubborn wild butterfly.

Because to me, that was you.

©2022 Poppy B. Humble