What seekest thou, my long-armed friend?
who hath no need to stoop or bend
to rest thy knuckles on the ground
who peers, bright-eyed, at all around
where jungle trails tell what has passed
to those, like you who are most harassed,
through fear of foes –

I note you limp and wonder why.
Doth I hear, as you go by
a low-toned whimper, is it strain?
or hunger-based to give you pain?
What is that object, keenly scanned,
you toss, and weigh, from hand to hand?
A bone? A bone!
my I now perceive that object’s shape
and realise within mind’s scope
’tis the shin-bone of an Antelope –

I believe I see a fertile mind
so much akin to human mind
and realise what thou doth seek
to ease thyself when strength is weak,
while I, forsooth am now entranced
by a chimpanzee – so much advanced.

Oh dear! Oh dear! I now perceive
senility, or some such disease
as to make you falter in your way,
and a glimmering as to why you stray,
to pick up bones which may help you cope.

Dost ape the human genes? and plan
to utilise as best you can –
this shinbone of an Antelope?

– Dave Rowan

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