Old Stone Lion

(14th Street, Omaha, Nebraska)

Old Leo, it’s always good to see you

no matter the time of day or season

I enjoy staring at your regal bearing

as you guard your spot on this empty lot.


You sit alone and I, your kindred spirit,

walk alone, sometimes stopping by

to see if you have anything to say.

I believe you must, for I look at you

in all your kingly glory and think

“I’ll bet that fellow has a story!”


Your furrowed  brow bears marks

earned from years of wisdom; therefore

I beg you, Sir Leo, share your vision.


But what worries you so? You look inward.

Something you forgot? Did a bad thought

get caught in one of your regal dreadlocks?


You big cat. What happened to your passion?

I’m certain in your day you were quite dashing.

Shouldn’t you be out romping and roaring

all over the savannah, humping lionesses

and tearing into those damn hyenas, then

ending such pleasure with a royal snooze?


That’s the path I’d choose if I were a lion

like you. Wait. Don’t tell me. Those days.

Not over for you, are they? Oh my gosh!


They are, aren’t they? Caught up in a coup,

chased off by a younger version of you.

Your days of roaring decidedly through.

Now I know what makes you blue.

You’re a deposed lion, aren’t you?


Friend, we can’t break bread. You’re stone

and can’t eat. No worries. I’ll sit. We can

share stories, enjoy a mental feast instead.


And if it’s tears you want to shed, we can

get to crying. For I, too, am a deposed lion.


#Omaha #poetry Ganja-tales.com


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