Zoological Garden

peacocks threaded through
the tables at the
snack bar, seeking out
the rinds of pretzels as
we ate sandwiches of
black pudding and drank
from a flask of tea

and the lions still
recline, in relief, facing
each other, as we
faced each other, only
later stumbling in the world
of darkness and
grasping for each other's
hands

timing the turbulence of
the river against our
breathing, pulsing over the
rocks, while common
chipmunks scurried past,
on their way, in a
hurry, somewhere,
while we waited for
the day to expire,
roaring at the lions,
never expecting them to
answer