Lemon light gleams on her gold-black stripes
through sparse bamboo blades at dawn.
Sprawled on her belly, legs folded on one side
she blends well in dry thistle — her face
composed, eyes ablaze, fixed on the bait.

Copper sun slants on her coat at dusk, tones down
black in highlights of yellow. The trap holds
her bruised limbs. Face contorts, dismayed —
eyes, dry, stilled in daze. At the bottom of the pit
against dullness of dark she appears pure gold
By Uma Asopa

Copyright © – Dr Uma Asopa