a cow is a cow it cannot crow,
just stand on four by the green field hills;
chewing, ruminating, bending low
over and over till its had its fill.
the zebra like keyboards on a piano
characteristic of its name, and so it's fixed
cannot switch hues to and fro,
ebony and ivory just such a mix.
a tiger growls, a scarecrow's silent.
such is nature, a fixture unbending.
hunting to survive, its this much violent;
a wound unwinds itself-a-mending.
as permanent as a moment,
yet fickle like stone;
how oft we sulk and carp and lament
about a person's little mean bone;
but like a leopard keeps its spot
or weeds that grow from cracks in rocks,
actions, like carcass up on a loft
stained with blood and etched in locks.
change, they may but change they never
nature and actions just will not sever.
Tiffanie Lein
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-apologies-3/
