The Burning of Ivory
The burning of ivory,
I watched it on the news.
It shocked me, disturbed me,
what was filmed by the camera crews.
An awe inspiring sight, I call it, rightly.
Mounds of white tusks,
I saw blacken, splinter, melt,
blazing in a green field
in Kenya in Africa.
From the bonfires of bone,
smoke rose to the sky.
The burning of ivory,
guarded by game wardens,
watched by silent crowds,
appalled by the work of fire.
A symbolic deed it was,
the people of Kenya
wanted the world to see,
to show they cared not for ivory,
but only for elephants.
Herds native to their land,
they wished to preserve.
The burning of ivory,
a protest against the poachers
who killed elephants for ivory
for nothing else but money.
“Wherever you are in the world,
if you wear ivory, shame on you,”
the spokeswoman said, defiantly.
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Elisabeth Marrion 