Tiger

Someone saw fit to sew
From fake fur a jacket,
Orange and black stripes,
With a hood and ears,
With a tail, too, and then
Left it in a thrift shop
Where it hung in the window
Like a second-hand zoo.

One January day I stopped in
And bought it, thinking:

Just what this city needs,
With its long colorless winter
Putting us all in a coma.
A bit of the tropical sun
Filtered green through
A dense, wet canopy.
A bit of the chattering
Cacophony, warning
As a predator passes.
A bit of that fear that
Wakes us up to alertness
And appreciation of 
Every moment that we are
Alive. Only the fittest will survive.

So watch out, you!
I've turned into a tiger,
And I'm prowling around town
In my new jacket. Growl!!

by Lori Martin, 2002
(photo by: Paul Goldstein; http://www.telegraph.co.uk/men/active/10751945/What-its-like-to-run-a-Marathon-with-a-tiger-on-your-back.html)