Julie Constable
Chiang Mai Zoo, 1989
The enclosures are small, yet bushy. We catch a glimmer of her eye where she lies in the shadows. She rises, prowls a little as we walk by, crouches again.
A small boy skipping and singing ascends the steps. As he lands in front of the enclosure she springs out of the darkness, launching herself at the child. Huge black paws slam into the cyclone wire fence, which bulges outwards under the immense force, bringing her open-mouthed, fanged and snarling just inches from the boy’s.
after the scream
red balloon
floating away
The boy flees. Is enfolded by his mama and papa. The leopard returns to the bushes to await the next ambush. The fence sizzles and clangs like a loose trampoline.
screeching to a halt
a whisker from the bus
rush of hot breath
Note: These days, the Chiang Mai Zoo is far more animal friendly and child-safe. The big cats roam open range and children observe from a footbridge.
About the Author
Julie Constable lives at Corner Inlet, Australia. Her haibun, tanka and haiku have appeared in Hobo, Inkshed, Muse, Poetrix, Gargouille, Eucalypt, Wanderlust, Blo͞o Outlier, Science Write Now, Pan Haiku Review, Catchment, and Autumn Moon. More of her work can be found at her website, Entrance Blue.
I felt I was there with the dynamics of the chosen phrasing, and haiku!
Alan