Bushbaby

by Pam Newham

It’s his first visit.
Mocha-soft skin and tangled curls,
this miniature Mowgli who,
with the wisdom of two,
sees no need for clothes.
Feral child.
He disrupts ant-streams
and challenges fat geckos.
“Yook, I a yion,” he roars.
But when the warhogs
move towards the house,
his calamata eyes grow wide.
I scoop him up and he holds on tight.

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