Singing Apes

A brown ape stops at a gap
between branches and spies another bough.

Whooping, the gibbon flies out of cover,
landing on the next branch.
Hornbills take off in fright,
and a giant squirrel retreats.

The gibbons swings across the spur,
her feet dangling.
Sighting her black-haired mate,
she swivels her wrists and leaps.

He begins to sing.
His throat resonates to his tune,
a deep-chested bass which turns
into a shrill cry and back again.

His song floods the forest,
echoes through the mist,
joined by his mate's chorus.
The singing apes meet
at the top of the tallest tree.

They survey the Himalayas
sheltering the rising sun.
Their calls forming a duet, they swing
through the canopy together.

Ideas

He walks
through the grass,
an ape on two feet

descended from the branches
of the primordial jungle,
bestowed with a sense
of festering independence,

the unknown ape
forges the first ideas
into tools of stone,
banishing the night
with newly tamed fire.
         A broken cycle,
a bit of breathing space,

at least until hunger returns,
and the long trek north
following the Nile's coils,
passing through the gateway
to the rest of the world.

(Okay, so maybe the weekend was a bit ambitious, but at least I've done one poem before the year is out. Hopefully things will be more productive come the new year. Hope you've all had a nice Christmas and Happy New Year!)