Night of the Gorillas

You wouldn’t have known;
After all, how could you?
But, then, there they stood,
Shoulder to massive shoulder,
Staring back at you for recognition.
However, the fear was so great,
You simply collapsed and sobbed.
One by one they approached—
Somewhat cautiously, at first—
Trying to decide what to do.
They knew you were troubled,
And communicated back and forth.
A few wanted to handle you,
Cast their arms around your waist,
Soothe you, as best they were able.
Yet others thought it better
To let you be, without confrontation,
Wait it out until you realized
They were no danger at all.
Eventually, they opted for patience,
Withdrew into their thick shadows,
Prepared to return one night,
When you might accept them.

Bart Edelman poetry collections include Crossing the Hackensack (Prometheus Press), Under Damaris’ Dress (Lightning Publications), The Alphabet of Love (Red Hen Press), The Gentle Man (Red Hen Press), The Last Mojito (Red Hen Press), The Geographer’s Wife (Red Hen Press), Whistling to Trick the Wind (Meadowlark Press), and This Body Is Never at Rest: New and Selected Poems 1993 – 2023 (Meadowlark Press). He has taught at Glendale College, where he edited Eclipse, a literary journal, and, most recently, in the MFA program at Antioch University, Los Angeles. His work has been widely anthologized in textbooks published by City Lights Books, Etruscan Press, Fountainhead Press, Harcourt Brace, Longman, McGraw-Hill, Prentice Hall, Simon & Schuster, Thomson/Heinle, the University of Iowa Press, Wadsworth, and others. He lives in Pasadena, California.