First Flight Poems (10)

He stalks in his vivid stripes
The few steps of his cage,
On pads of velvet quiet,
In his quiet rage

He should be lurking in

Though to distinguish beasts of prey 
A novice might nonplus,
The crocodiles you always may
Tell from the Hyena thus :
Hyenas come

.......... Winds rush to meet them. 
The moon is broken like a mirror,
Its pieces flash now in the crown
of the tallest oak.