Beast

Beast

A carcase lies splayed,

Deer dismembered,

Limbs at every angle,

Throat ripped out, entrails spilled,

Ribs exposed, gnawed and bloody,

Its mouth a rictus

Grimace of violent death.

No stoat, no stealthy weasel,

No passing fox, nor badger

Could cause such carnage,

Nor hunt, stalk,

Then haul to earth

Such heavy prey,

Nor rip and tear the flesh,

Leaving here such grisly remnants.

Nothing nearby found

No hair, no skin, no tracks,

Neither teeth-marks, nor DNA,

No photos, prints or evidence,

But then the dogs, nervous, set to barking

As if there’s something out there.

And rough men with guns

Shake their heads

And pull meaningful faces,

As if to say, knowingly,

That a killer stalks these woods and fields,

A creature unseen, sly and stealthy,

Sleuth-like, sloping, sliding,

Slipping through trees,

A reported shape, a shadow

Large, long and lean,

A cunning, catlike killer,

Fierce, feline, feral hunter,

Black, background-blending,

Glimpsed within the greenery.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015