Australian
Poetry Journal

Issues / Volume 5 Issue 2 , November 2015

Poem

The Tyger

Joe Dolce

  Tyger Tyger, striped and lean,
  Marsupial thylacine,
  What immortal mind might think
  To make one such as you extinct?
  
  Blame the bounties, blame the dogs,
  Blame the sawn and rolling logs,
  Blame disease, the human slur,
  No one really knows for sure.
  
  Some say the last one of its kin,
  Went by the name of Benjamin.
  No proof or records of that tale:
  The photographs suggest female.
  
  In what bush, in what brush,
  In what dry Eucalyptus,
  Nocturnal hunter, quiet and shy,
  Hid thy graceful symmetry?
  
  Tyger Tyger, striped and lean,
  Marsupial thylacine,
  Did we glimpse thee on that track?
  Perhaps a clone will bring you back.