I snap my hands aloud:
at the cunning tortoise who poisoned
our communal supper in the dark,
masking the faces of his folks.
Mad dog who ate
our communal egg
Where are you now?
Where now are you?
The termite has flown and flown
And landed wingless on the bare earth
of the garlanded grave yard northwards
Wingless ... he
crawls on his belly
for the waiting jaws of frogs and lizards.