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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield


(Based on a pen and ink
rendering by Patrick Harsch)

Do not be beguiled by his dignity.
The calm expression of his face.
Notice the arch of the tiger’s neck.
The tension of its eyes.
The wild fierceness of its control.
He chooses what he wants.
His overbearing strength belittles us.
No matter our intelligence.
He does not play that game.

He gives no option to what his teeth
would devour.
There is a wild smell to his blood.
It raises terror in the tender noses
of his prey.
One does not negotiate with a tiger.
You keep your distance.
You envy the murder of his claws
and eyes.

He is at the top of the hierarchy
that dominates the world of wilderness.
One could almost love a tiger
for its confidence.
He is a killer to the end.
Not a monster
but a primeval power,
an avalanche,
compared to the vanity of our pretensions
before the pristine power of wild.

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