Lions
Eleanor Currey
“Punch buggy!”
We cruised down the cracked Kenyan roads
Scoured for a yellow car
The punch I so dreaded from my sister’s fist
The gravest weight on my chest.
The wind whispered through the trees
Shared secrets with the land.
The sun kissed my radiant skin.
Little did I know what was happening
6 km away.
Images of chaos danced across the tv
Fear seized my parent’s face
Confusion caught mine.
Above the deep purple trumpeted jacaranda trees
Smoke slithered through the air:
“4 gunmen stormed the mall.”
“67 dead, 150 injured.”
Memorials in school, honoring those we’d lost
The selfishness of classmates aching for recognition:
“I decided not to go to the mall at the last minute.”
“I am lucky to be alive.”
I was selfishly among them.
Weeks passed
“Can’t stay here… too dangerous…”
Mama and Papa whispered behind closed doors.
The walls, once my shelter, now echoed my fears
The outside world felt like a distant acquaintance.
The nights I so dreaded, left alone.
As the lions encircled my room
The shadows danced like predators.
Eyes peered just above the covers.
My body ached for my parents.
6 months on the hardwood floor
6 months hiding from the lions
A journey indispensable
To bloom and to grow
Eleanor Currey is a currently majoring in English and minoring in Russian language. She writes, “Writing this poem was such a meaningful experience, and I’m so excited to be able to share it with you.”