“The Zebra,” by T. C. Ye ’19



I sit on the land,

Beside a forest,

In South Africa.

The sunshine makes me sleepy,

A vigorous creature comes toward me.

It’s creepy.

I meet my new friend;

He is an African zebra.

He stares at me with his eyes,

His dark, sentimental eyes.

Touch his skin,

It’s rough,

But filled with the adventures in the jungle.

His body is covered by blacks,

And whites,

Just like a piece of picture,

Taken by a photographer in the late 1800s.

His legs are strong,

The muscles inside are jumping,

Are shaking,

Are running.

His tail is a brush pen,

Waving to the road he went by.

Here he comes,

With his shiny noseband . . .

Wait a second.

Oh. You are a cow.