One sip from a chalice
of the fabled potent water
sprouting from
that mysterious fountain
in a mystical garden
could make me hear
what animals
whistle
howl
bark
grunt
or chirp –
intelligible dialogues
revealing secrets
of life
of hidden treasures
of dormant glories
and just maybe
a meal lurking beyond.
Ah, but then again,
I’d be hearing those things
like what hearing people talk about.
And then…
And then…
Did you think
I was going
to make a run
for it?
By Curt Robbins