Africa FINAL Secure 21

No Secret Where Elephants Walk
POETR Y & IMAGES t AFRICA
CAROL AND ARNIE KANTER

POETR Y & IMAGES t AFRICA
CAROL AND ARNIE KANTER

© 2010 by Carol Kanter and Arnold Kanter. All rights reserved.
Published by P & I Press

1226 Judson Ave.
Evanston, IL 60202
[email protected]
No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying
and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.
ISBN-13: 978-0-615-32889-8
Library of Congress Control Number: 2009911930
Printed in China
Cover Photo: Sable, Kenya
Acknowledgments:
“Cleansing the Kill”—Earth’s Daughters, “Splinters & Fragments,” Issue #72, 2008.
“Mourning Ritual”—Common Ground Review, Vol. 9, No. 4, Spring/Summer, 2007.
Versions of the following appeared in a chapbook, “Out of Southern Africa,” 2005, published by Finishing Line Press:
“Absence on the Magkudigkudi Salt Pans”

“Amphibious”
“Art of Dress-Up”
“Assailable Warthog”
“Cape Buffalo”
“Meerkats of the Kalahari”
“No secret where elephants walk.”
“Ostrich Attraction”
“Pride”
“Rapprochement”
“Scary Veldt”
“Statuesque”
“Still Life with Giraffe Head”
“Termite Monarchies”
Introduction
Taking photographs and writing poems have both challenged us and allowed us to extend the pleasures
of our journeys, keeping them vivid in our memories. These pursuits have also allowed us to share our
travel experiences more fully with family and friends.
We are fortunate to have traveled widely together, but have always worked on our chosen artistic
pursuits independently. When we considered a friend’s suggestion that we publish a book that combines
our poetry and photography, we were surprised to find how often our two different “takes” fit together.
In retrospect, this is not so surprising. We were, after all, on the same trips. And forty-five years of
marriage probably helps, too.
Though each poem relates to the photograph it accompanies, it does not necessarily reflect exactly what
the photo captures. Rather, we offer our separate reactions to what we saw and experienced, in some
cases similar and, in others, quite different. In only a few instances were poems written specifically to
accompany photos in this collection.
In this volume we combine the poetry and images from three trips to Africa—South Africa, Botswana
and Zambia in 2003; Kenya and Uganda in 2004; and Kenya and Tanzania in 2008. All three helped
us to discover more about our world, and our selves. We are pleased to invite you to share these trips
with us, and hope that this book may inspire some of you to prolong and enhance the enjoyment of your
own travels through the exercise of your particular artistic talents.
Carol and Arnie Kanter

Evanston, Illinois
April, 2010
1
Répondez, S’il Vous Plaît
Come sample Africa to feast—

through camera lens and scrim of mind—
on veldts, lakes, deserts south and east
Meet people, cheetah, wildebeest
and should a view or line release
some thoughts beyond, then on those dine
Come sample Africa to feast
through camera lens and scrim of mind
2
In Camp
Groomed, this oasis, and hard-won

but not cordoned off from, say, the larger cats.
Animals are free to venture in
but tend to spurn unnatural habitats.
Birds, of course, take full advantage, come
routinely minutes after dawn. They own
the early mist, troll for breakfast crumbs
(caramel rolls they much prefer to scones).
Despite birdsong, silence wraps the scene,

and swaddled in the chill that lingers here
stray ideas, wild waking dreams
congeal, vibrant in dew’s silver mirror—
mosaics, say, of cats who gaze on kings—
while a-tremble, daylight crouches in the wings.
4
Adolescent
On break from tussles with his twin

beneath the bush
where their mother left them
where they rolled around, mouthed

each other’s necks and—on their backs
in dappled shade—pawed air.
Suspended, the home-school lessons

on how to slink into tall grass
crouch silent, eyes wide.
Already he has learned how

under cover of dark
to ambush small prey
rehearsal for the larger game

he will hunt and kill
once he grows into his giant paws.
He will claw-mark trees

and lay down urine claims, intent
that all respect his bailiwick.
Turning his spotted back

on child’s play—
not to say, on joy—
he will stalk his range alone.
7
A Snapshot Stage
Her teenage boyfriend has adorned her

with these heavy strings of beads
signs of his infatuation, his temporary claim

which she keeps on even when she sleeps.
Theirs, a practice coupling, a rite of passage

for trials at giving and getting
at bonding, loyalty, obedience

to customs set by the community at large.
They knew, from the get-go, her family

promised her to some tribal elder
who will take her for a wife, remove her

to his own village circle.
She will go circumcised, unencumbered

by her necklaces, to a mud hut
she must build for herself, for her children—

rarely to see parents or beau again.
8
The Ubiquitous Impala
On its buttocks, the McDonald sign—

not gold, but a black arched “M”—
brands this antelope
“fast food” served far and wide, fair game for all.
Wolfed down in quantities by the big cats

by jackals, by wild dogs,
how can it escape
prime mention on world-watch endangered lists?
Within two winter weeks

does turn out a full new crop of fawn
and when the weaker, slower,
luckless young fall prey, the others carry on
brown eyes brimful of will to live

to multiply.
On orange alert—heads high
ears and nose a-twitch—off they streak
at the earliest whiff of danger,

all in one direction, a strong arc wind
rippling tan and cream
through tall, dry grass that opens, closes up
susurrant as water that erases

where gentle life has passed
while in its wake lilies
rock upon their scalloped pads.
10
Safari
View the veldt’s large mammals in their natural habitat

the ones most people boast about, but please don’t stop at that.
Take interest in the smaller ones, of some you’ve never heard
like the umpteen kinds of antelope. And DO NOT MISS THE BIRDS.
13
On Wealth
Self-named cowherds of the world, they walk

for miles on legs reed thin and kudu long.
They learned from youth to dance in Maasai style
with sandaled feet that spring Air-Jordan strong,
well-nourished by the cows they tend and count

like living gold, cows they milk and bleed
with just-so frequency in set amounts,
cows they thank and praise by wearing beads,
elaborate strings that ripple white and red.

But a man must pay her father precious cattle
each time he settles on a girl to wed—
how many wives true measure of his mettle.
So, streaking the veldt like crimson-breasted birds

sons, swathed in blood-red prints, attend the herds.
14
They strip bark, though the wind whistles

trample underbrush, uproot warnings through the large round
bushes in wide swaths, topple symmetric hole
enormous trees. in the matriarch’s flapping earlobe
To deal with such destruction, its tune the triumphal march

officials in Zimbabwe from Aida,
cull whole families the part where women dance
leaving none to mourn, none with tambourines
to remember.
the crescendo part where all
But South Africa lets nature hail the parade
take its course, of real-live horses
so elephants graze and elephants decked out
the vast reaches of Kruger Park with conquerors.
approachable and unafraid
16
17
Statuesque
Unnamed In one calm line the pre-

in the “Big Five” possessing four
he stands a cut above stride—right legs,
in silhouette left legs, right—glide
against blue sky with such slow grace
the choreography
arrayed conceals
in brown reticulate
from knobby head their deadly kick.
with stubby, They sashay
tufted, no-trophy horns within the lions’ range
to bad-rap cloven to stare them down
hooves. as if they mean to say
“We see you so forget
He eats the highest your kill-by-stealth routine.”
tender leaves
only elephants Off the zebras trot
can reach to share. while the cats, long-
tongued, yawn
Without herd or land, their innocence.
he solos free
of “our” and “mine.” Such peace walks
But when he sees two lions may not rate a noble prize.
wake, sit up and sniff But when you add these
zebras grazing near him— to their size, surely
too low to see so far— giraffe merit mention
he and three cohorts form in the “Big Five.”
an ad hoc posse
to arrest the carnivores And if you cannot pick
before they act. which other animal to nix?
Just bump up the list
to a “Big Six.”
18
19
At Home in the Manyatta
Life is simple
if not exactly easy
Each woman has her roles

a number before the title Wife
beauty etched by sun, wind, work
onto face and hands and feet
Matters of subsistence leave choice

behind in burnt-orange dust
As for happiness—
no guaranteed pursuit—
tamp it into one small gourd
and carry it around.
21

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No Secret Where Elephants Walk

POETR Y & IMAGES t AFRICA

CAROL AND ARNIE KANTER

CAROL AND ARNIE KANTER

Published by P & I Press

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009911930

Cover Photo: Sable, Kenya

“Mourning Ritual”—Common Ground Review, Vol. 9, No. 4, Spring/Summer, 2007.

“Absence on the Magkudigkudi Salt Pans”

Carol and Arnie Kanter

Come sample Africa to feast—

Groomed, this oasis, and hard-won

Despite birdsong, silence wraps the scene,

On break from tussles with his twin

where they rolled around, mouthed

Suspended, the home-school lessons

Already he has learned how

rehearsal for the larger game

He will claw-mark trees

Turning his spotted back

he will stalk his range alone.

Her teenage boyfriend has adorned her

signs of his infatuation, his temporary claim

Theirs, a practice coupling, a rite of passage

at bonding, loyalty, obedience

They knew, from the get-go, her family

who will take her for a wife, remove her

She will go circumcised, unencumbered

she must build for herself, for her children—

On its buttocks, the McDonald sign—

Wolfed down in quantities by the big cats

Within two winter weeks

brown eyes brimful of will to live

at the earliest whiff of danger,

susurrant as water that erases

View the veldt’s large mammals in their natural habitat

Self-named cowherds of the world, they walk

well-nourished by the cows they tend and count

elaborate strings that ripple white and red.

So, streaking the veldt like crimson-breasted birds

They strip bark, though the wind whistles

To deal with such destruction, its tune the triumphal march

Unnamed In one calm line the pre-

Each woman has her roles

Matters of subsistence leave choice

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