Under the Baobab Tree (A tribute to Clarkson, Hammond, and May)
Outstretched along the wire-thin horizon,
where the dead lay in shallow graves.
Three animals set forth on a great migration,
To cross a sea, unquenched of water or waves.
A buzzard flew in from the burkea treetops,
Advising the animals, if their own lives they cherish,
Warned them of the perils that lay ahead;
fresh meat for scavengers should they perish.
As the sun, like a predator, reached its apex,
the arid and ageless ground shone it’s light,
Like a dirty mirror in an abandoned house
Dust and grime had clouded their sight
Their limbs began to sink beneath the salty mush,
Weighing down their heavy bodies; all but one,
Whose limbs were too brittle to be sunk
to pull and tug them out alone.
They shed much of their weight, and still
The mush stuck to their ringed black feet.
The ground hardened as did their resolve
To press on in spite of the humbling heat.
On a lone island, hugging the horizon,
Stone on stone, stepped the animals three
And stood, perching atop the rocky outcrop;
under the shadow of the lone baobab tree.
They gazed out towards the descending sun
Adorning it’s coronal garments, lighting
the sea and sky in a flameless fire.
As the Baobab bent to grasp its rays fading.
They journeyed beyond the island rock,
Traveling on air, land, and sea
A grand tour across the globe,
That began from under the Baobab tree.
Their twilight years had come at last,
Friends united and broken by destiny.
So they broke their veil, split their bond,
Reunited under the shadow of the Baobab tree.
They rode off into the setting sun,
Tailing dusty trails of three.
Memories left to the scattering winds.
From underneath the Baobab tree.
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the dudes from top gear??
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