There they were - two proud beasts ... 

Their lips shining wet with the yeast

Of their love shared along the bank

Where still do roam some heavy tanks



Which chug along slowly but surely

Pushing over obstacles in paths poorly

Leaving remnants of past drawn images

In the dust of the tracks they've given us



As we gaze along ridges in the dry sand

Made by those caterpillar treads so grand

Those two lions do wander along following

Their noses in the tracks barely swallowing



Until they come upon pushed-down barricades

And stop to sniff - taking in the air ever-sprayed

With the blood-mist scent of those gone before

Which fires the minds of the lions to set up a lure



To catch their prey with all of their strength and might

No matter how much the weaker will put up a good fight

The lion knows well he will ultimately win the long battle 

For he is fierce and so can outlast any and all of the cattle



- tristram



12:45pm Saturday, November 8th, 1997