Tigers - For Children Poem by Don Pearson

Tigers - For Children



(For Julia Howe and to our grandchildren)

I am a tiger, roaring,
and you run, screaming, to hide
in the place where you always hide.
I hunt, heavy footed
on hand and knee
so that you can hear me coming,
snarling, sniffing,
cold, then warmer, then hot,
breath-holdingly,
heart-stoppingly hot.
Finally, I find you and
with roars and shrieks
you are wrestled to the ground
and eaten, laughing.

Now we are tiger and cub,
together hunting mummy,
who will not hide
and refuses to be our dinner
because she is tired.
Mummy tells you,
“It is well past your bedtime.”

So I say that we
have to be tigers now
because tomorrow
there may not be any tigers
that we can be.

Mummy says, “Up those stairs. Grandad ought to grow up
and stop talking nonsense, ”
and we are both sent, irrevocably, to bed,
crying for the lost tigers
and for tomorrow.

9th October 2013

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