Kai Moon's Dip

Hua! The mahout's toes tap Kai-moon's scabby ears That flap like rudders in the slipstream heat. The jungle hits you with a wall of warmth. Elephant hide feels bullet proof, A bursting horse hair sofa Being carried on Kai-moon's back Is to brush the treetops on a moving mountain, Each ponderous thigh creaks in its curtain of skin. Her footprints gouge out bowls in the ochre mud. We reach a pool that is mosquito heaven. The horizon heaves, Kai-moon has stopped to drink. The mahout nudges her and down we sink Into the chocolate pool through man-high reeds Like a house sucked into quicksand. The water's now a handspan from my feet. Burned charcoal-black beneath the tropic skies, This Thailand matriarch enjoys her dip. Her drowned trunk periscopes up, Snorkels and squirts, Swallows the murky water. I pray she doesn't develop the urge to wallow. She doesn't. Wet and dripping she emerges Into the scorching day, Swaying into the steaming, humming leaves.