The Emerald Leopard Poem by Dorothy Featherstone Porter

You're lost if you steer.

How did you get here?

Leopard, that smell in the air.
Leopard, that spoor at your feet.

Your knots unfurled into a sail
and you tacked into a high colour

green.

The leopard coughs from the horizon
you head for her throat.

She's beautiful.

A roar of sea, a roar of fur
you can look at her
you can look at anything.

A whiplash of tail

as she looks at you.

She's so dangerous;
immense,
she takes your trembling measure

her eyes smoke

your eyes close

you want the cuff of her paw
you dream
of her weight on your chest.

She doesn't move.
A lush silence
spreads from her stare.

Her breath in your face.

She shapes you
sharp as light.

You don't swoon.