Always Inside

Always inside I pace, sometimes out run the prey,
That precede me, smiles, ice-cream, pink sandals and toes
On two feet. Twirl, empty talk, matches my speed with poise.

I’m rehabilitated, have seen the light through the glass,
Know the enemy from within, no it’s power, it’s kindness,
The smell of it’s meat, the empty noises, it’s blindness.

Sometimes I roar. Next to the glass, I see the shudder.
It’s commercial, my unmaking, the king of the jungle.
If only the glass would break, and you would stumble…

© Rosalind J. Lee

Lion kept in glass case in café as customers sit just feet away in Istanbul

Rosalind J. Lee lives and works in Norfolk, England, a place where history meets the present, is shattered and remade. It is, then little wonder - that poetry comes tactile.