The Siberian tiger leaps from the back of the truck: He’d been caught in a snare, rescued by Russian students Deep in the forest, tranquilized, observed, fitted with a radio Collar, woken up as if from a human dream for tigers, Driven back to the forest, the cage opened, the leap, And gone. Four hundred left. Poachers demented with greed Want every part of the Siberian tiger but never The whole tiger.
From Willow Room, Green Door: New and Selected Poems by Deborah Keenan. Copyright © 2007 by Deborah Keenan. Reprinted with the permission of Milkweed Editions.