Lion – a poem

Lion
by Kilmeny MacMichael

Some mornings I wake up with a face of a lion

no, not a lioness, I do not mean a lioness

there’s too much mane for that mistake

Sometimes I wake up with a face of a lion

there’s something about how my hair and skin and the light hits

just right – in the mirror

There’s a flatness, a primitive dun-ness

and a firmness and a glittering and a sureness

I can look at myself straight when I am a lion

And I say yes today

and I do not smile and I do not bare my teeth

but I go out into the veldt of the world

And I am ready