September 15th, 2025
by Sarah Kessell
I peer through the glass,
A sad little giraffe calls to me,
I put in my first coin,
Grab, drop, lose.
I try again,
The claw goes around the head,
I hold my breath,
Grab, drop, lose.
I try again,
The claw grabs a lion instead,
How?
Grab, drop, lose.
My fourth dollar departs,
I move the claw steadily,
I take a deep breath.
Grab, drop, lose.
Five dollars,
My mind spirals,
I must rescue the giraffe.
Grab, drop, lose.
Giraffes are being poached for their skin.
Grab, drop, lose.
The waterways are polluted.
Grab, drop, lose.
Fast fashion is producing more waste.
Grab, drop, lose.
The recession forces people to buy cheap.
Grab, drop, lose.
Tariffs are making things more expensive.
Grab, drop, lose.
Trade wars are escalating.
Grab, drop, lose.
If nothing is done, we’ll lose more than giraffes.
Grab, drop... win!
Prize in my hands,
I stare into its embroidered eyes.
I exhale... I want to go home and sleep.
About the Poet
Sarah Kessell resides in Wellington, New Zealand.
Read the poet's biography and Wax Poetry and Art Publications
on Sarah Kessell's Artist Page.
This poem is included in Poetry World #13,
published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in New Zealand Poetry Magazine:
Personas of a Poet
by Hope Cotton
New Zealand Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
- Visit the main Wax Poetry and Art Submissions Page to see all opportunities.
- Visit the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
- This website and all contents ©Kirk Ramdath and specified artists.
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