by: Jon Dambacher

pulls bark from an African Plum tree
to scratch a line into a cavewall.
        The exaltation sends him dashing out
charging toward his tribe in camp
collecting them to acknowledge the event.
        In the cave
four of his kind stand in wonder
he’s created a recognizable figure.

        At sundown
hunters hide below the Agapanthus
stalking two antelope.
        The sketcher grins privately
as his troupe barbecues their dinner
he signs the cavewall with animalblood.
        In the morning
the tribe shares freshly hunted meat
but he accepts plums from a female’s hand.