Willow, a one day old baby Giraffe with its mother.
Picture credit: Ralph Daily
I had no intention of writing today, but coming upon this story and the petition that accompanied it, changed that in a heartbeat.
For as long as I can remember, the Giraffe has been the object of my affection and admiration.
There is something so regal, so fragile, so graceful, so endearing about them, how could you not love them.
In my lifetime, I have, with little shame, amassed a collection of Giraffes in every form, all manner of clothing, toys for my children and my dogs of course, stationary, Christmas cards, birthday cakes, Giraffes made of paper, wood, copper, bisque, brass, you name it, if it is a Giraffe anything, I have it.
In my defense, many of the above were gifts, as my love of this animal was well-known.
But apparently, not everyone loves or cherishes…
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The haunted look
in the eyes
the plastic tags
in the ears
the bit of grass
in the coat
of a tender soul
will arise in glory
their souls ablaze
we will pay
our dying hearts
by the very souls
by the likes of us