Julie A. Dickson
Well-Known Member
I have been honored for the third year in a row to write poems for the International Elephant Vigil, remembering all those elephants that died in captivity- zoos and circuses, as well as those fortunate enough to have spent their last days in sanctuary. See attachments.
I have been an elephant advocate for more than 20 years. I support many elephant organizations, including those sanctuaries in the US, Brazil, Thailand and Africa.
Not my baby
Giving birth alone -
where are my sisters, my mother
who should be around me touching,
supporting me during my time,
soothing my spasm-wracked body,
awaiting the arrival of my son,
but I am alone with only humans,
the same humans who hurt me,
cause my ears to bleed, starving me
so I perform tricks that cause more pain.
I give birth, he rushes forth -
words and screams of delight burst
from their mouths like afterbirth.
I stand and watch him struggle
to unsteady feet, my trunk pushes
away hands, don’t touch him I want
to shout, if I had words; my rumble
causes their hands to fall back.
After a few days, I know his fate.
Humans don’t see yet; I will lose him,
his lifeless body will lie beneath mine
until hands pull him away. I cry
but not only for his tiny soul, he only
had days with me, enough to capture
my heart. They will not have him,
not my baby. I also cry for his release.
Julie A. Dickson
2023 Elephant Vigil
* A great percentage of those elephants born to mothers in captivity do not survive.
No zoos can provide an environment large enough to meet the needs of an elephant; many exist alone, without a herd, in a life of abuse, neglect and loneliness.
I have been an elephant advocate for more than 20 years. I support many elephant organizations, including those sanctuaries in the US, Brazil, Thailand and Africa.
Not my baby
Giving birth alone -
where are my sisters, my mother
who should be around me touching,
supporting me during my time,
soothing my spasm-wracked body,
awaiting the arrival of my son,
but I am alone with only humans,
the same humans who hurt me,
cause my ears to bleed, starving me
so I perform tricks that cause more pain.
I give birth, he rushes forth -
words and screams of delight burst
from their mouths like afterbirth.
I stand and watch him struggle
to unsteady feet, my trunk pushes
away hands, don’t touch him I want
to shout, if I had words; my rumble
causes their hands to fall back.
After a few days, I know his fate.
Humans don’t see yet; I will lose him,
his lifeless body will lie beneath mine
until hands pull him away. I cry
but not only for his tiny soul, he only
had days with me, enough to capture
my heart. They will not have him,
not my baby. I also cry for his release.
Julie A. Dickson
2023 Elephant Vigil
* A great percentage of those elephants born to mothers in captivity do not survive.
No zoos can provide an environment large enough to meet the needs of an elephant; many exist alone, without a herd, in a life of abuse, neglect and loneliness.