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Feeding the Giraffe
I stand by the wooden railing,
Surrounded by screeching toddlers.
I scan the possible candidates—and then,
Our eyes meet.
His neck is long and thin and covered in ruddy patches.
His big eyes look curiously at me,
Innocent and wild at the same time as he clops over.
This is the one, they said.
My giraffe ambles over gracefully
Then leans his slender neck over the fence.
He knows the routine.
I remove the fiber cracker from my pocket.
It looks salty, crunchy, and woven like a scarf.
I stick out my arm cautiously.
He radiates gentleness.
His lips flip back, as a rough, purple tongue
Reaches out in welcome.
I place the cracker on this mauve platform.
It twists then snaps back into his mouth.
His crunch is slow and echoes in my head.
We share a moment of silence,
Just the two of us.
by Erin Voss
7th grade, Le Jardin Academy
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