This is a poem by Saul Bellow. Not sure if it has a title.
“Mice hide when hawks are high;
Hawks shy from airplanes;
Planes dread the ack-ack-ack;
Each one fears somebody.
Only the heedless lions
Under the Booloo tree
Snooze in each other’s arms
After their lunch of blood –
I call that living good!”
Reblogged this on My Writing Life.
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