Do you know elephants?
The deep bonds they form,
matriarchal, led by the largest,
all caring for the youngest together.

Do you know elephants?
Memories span years, not to be forgotten.
And compassion, they grieve, cry tears,
play and paint if given the freedom.

Not what you would expect from
something so grey.

We came to your door, my elephant
and me, because we heard you welcome all.
You see, my elephant and I don’t fit most
places, don’t meet traditional demands.

We took a chance, my elephant and me,
stood at your door, suitcase in hand,
ready to share with abandon, finally be
fully received, me and my elephant.

We waited and watched, but discerned
your sign slyly drawn. Not lettered large,
but your splatter rang clear,
“Strictly No Elephants” allowed.

You made up rules
set down by what should be
only because it has always been,
without a thought to elephants.

You mustn’t know elephants,
or me.
I am sorry.