Our fellow creatures, widest sense,
including primates, human kind,
but all in sea or earth, in air,
companions, mutual partnership.
Each race, genetic tracery,
in season, seek off-spring, forward leap,
to make their mark, leave legacy,
willed imprint, pattern, future type.
Vast multitudes we’re unaware –
that lip-sticked monkey just emerged;
it’s odd, that new, creeps into qualm,
so fright, fight, flight gives way to fawn.
There’s mild mind melt, through molten flow,
a pyroclast of vented fear;
when drunk with power appointed lead
something is off course, best set norms.
Like lions, killing other’s breed,
so we at summit, lethal spree,
for unknown folk, strange people die,
because mere ego protects pride.
Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales, UK, from ministry in the Methodist Church due to Parkinson’s Disease, has had pieces curated and published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies, including Poetry Potion. He has, like so many, been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. His blog is at https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com