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Zanhar, the Arabian
Jana Kalina

Zanhar, the Arabian,
out of place
on this wild, wet, West Coast
            cavorts about. Strides up and over
moss-masked boulders. Brushes past
tickling ferns. Droopy cedars stand, soaked
under shawls
of moody mists, as we slip by
unnoticed. Fungal smells released
from among fallen giants
sprouting huckleberry bushes, declare life
How the flesh knows it. And stillness
hovers. I scan with feline eyes
cliff outcrops where cougars sink silent paws
into saturated moss, drop
to the belly
and wait. Black bears plod along elsewhere
and camouflaged, black-tailed deer forage
— ears twitching, tails flickering —
time enough to escape, but
they do not
bound away. Slicing through
overhead branches with precision, owl
            into mysterious dimensions. 
And Zanhar, ever the ambassador, negotiates           
            our way back
to his barn. Returns me
to my world
of bricks and mortar
and traffic

© by Jana Kalina.
Used with the author’s permission.

Jana Kalina lives in Victoria, British Columbia. With two uncooperative wired-haired basset hounds and a Caribbean-Quebecer husband, life is never dull for this Bohemian-born poet with a romantic heart and idealistic world view. Jana loves mushrooming in the fall, skinny dipping in the summer — and poetry all year round.

Post New Comment:
across the blue dome of the great basin mustang’s eye | “tinywords” Issue 11.3 | 5 January 2012
Posted 11/19/2012 05:18 AM
~ and isn't he is this poem ~ thanks, Judy
Posted 11/18/2012 03:53 PM
Wonderful use of image-thick words, like "shawls of moody mists." I can feel like I am there, too, not in suburban Chicago. Ah.
Posted 11/18/2012 03:46 PM
What a trip in words! Beautifully done.
Posted 11/18/2012 12:18 PM
ooohhh, what a sensual, beautiful poem--love it!
Posted 11/18/2012 10:58 AM
Beautiful! The poem and pictures,I mean.
Posted 11/18/2012 08:47 AM
Thank you, Jana.
Posted 11/18/2012 04:15 AM

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