The Tiger’s Claws
By Garland Davis
We wandered these seas
long before Noah’s flood, before the prophets
told of Rome’s fate, by the Goth’s sword
our sails spread over these waters
long before the coming of the unnatural
smoke pot ships that stain the skies with their black.
Before the Eastern empire bloodied us at a place
called Pearl and strew the ocean bed with the metal
of our dreadnoughts and the lives of our sailors.
Causing the wakening of a sleeping tiger that flung
it’s metal claws across the great ocean to war
where a victory was bought with a blinding flame.
Know that our kind still sail the waters of
that great ocean, ever vigilant, ever ready
for another despot who has arisen in a land
to the North of thirty-eight and South of Yalu.
The tiger’s claws are sheathed for the moment
but know that the tiger can and will strike if it must.