SPRINGWATCH POETRY COMPETITION

Second Place

Stoat Song

byHeather Newcombe

Was it only last week you
came to my door,
your damp nose pressed
against the bright glass
of your reflection?
Did you find me out of fear
or desperation,
frantic to find your other self -
wildly weaving back and forth?
Mesmerised I let you in, watched
your fruitless darting and diving;
the pungent smell of you
searching for your mother
you little runaway!
I willed you to leave, return
to the ditches and fields.
I begged you to give up the search;
you would not go.
I trapped you in a mesh of black net,
you lay limp and smouldering
snared in its spidery folds-
sending out your appalling scent.
I put you in a bird less aviary
named you Galileo.
I strung you a linen hammock
like the pole cats on Las Ramblas;
fed you raw mince, a mix of bone
and hair on a long skewer,
I was repulsed… excited!

Each day you descend from
your lofty bed - a ball of indignant hunger;
bark a warning, before you feed.
I am warm with the proximity
of your presence, that you trust
me - even a little.

One day you will leave
I know there will be
no fond farewell!

Adult Winners
1st place | 2nd place | 3rd place

Junior Winners
1st place | 2nd place | 3rd place