The Rhino (Etosha, sw Africa)
You stood in the leafless scrub, huge tank presence, so big, concrete block.
Tiny eye that watched us. Sharp, silent, suspicious. Ready to charge.
Engine rolling, first gear. You seemed to know. Was that sardonic
That smile in your marble eye ?
Huff. Slight movement. Seconds between us. Let’s go, I said,
He looks cross.
Dust swirled up behind us, thick and brown. I looked back. You were on the road now, watching.
This is my home, you said.
Catherine BroughtonÂ
