Elephants march, born of stone, trekking Mercury’s surface, clutching prayer that angry Sun would cease boring holes in hide.
All walk bleak parade, crumbling into dust heaps, but two elephants twine trunks, send hope on blazes of light. A youngster is born of their wish. Like others, made of stone, scalds in flame. But he burns back (serve return!).
With focus, the youngster stares into Sun’s eyes, and triumphs. His eyes speak fury their own. Heat close to thirst quenches the Sun.
Elephants march under heat of waned Sun, ever balmy. Youngster marches too, eyes clenched, awaiting Sun’s peek again.
Author’s Note: This is one of a series of stories sparked by reasoning, if there is life on other planets, why can’t they be animals, cousins of those on Earth? Here we have elephants of stone, durable yet breakable, striving to win their war with the sun.