A Different Sonnet

A different Sonnet Sunlight from early morn and not Far from here the Azores a cyclone Lashes onto shores and makes the island Taller and more meagre Stealing top- soil near the coast and The rocks tremble, will it not end. I sit in the winter sun tanning old leather And not a straw moves in the stillness I drove down to my little Savannah stopped And walked a bit and I tell no lie when I tell You I saw a pride of lions in the tall grass And a crocodile was eating a deer that had Come to drink in the ditch. Time matters here once the plain was a sea Slow changes we can`t see because we do Not live long enough, so let me enjoy this Moment look idly at drifting clouds Before my savannah turns into a sea again.