Tiger

I want to call you Tiger
But you fight me tooth and claw
"Grandma," I say, "Grandma, Grandma
Tiger, I don't think I'm wrong"
Old man hat on your head
And a shotgun, don't shoot
The rabbit in your garden
Shoot the garden hose instead

Tiger, dealing cards
One for me and one for you
Then lean across my shoulder
Telling me which cards to
Slap down on the table
The colors of war, the empty faces
Smell of power in a copper penny
You raise me

Tiger in the kitchen
With a cleaver and a chicken
Pouring red wine in a coffee mug
And a little glass, "Here, Kitten,
Taste" a transfusion
Instinct, memory so ancient
Tiger...
Chris Almighty!

Tiger with the lights up bright
Hair gone wild and your eyes gone narrow
"Not a word of this to Harry, do you hear me?
Not a word to Harry"

©1998 Annie Gallup