and I did and it was there, hunched beneath the coats,
covered in hair, doing its best to look inconspicuous
and it did indeed smell a bit like woodsmoke and iron,
and I did see something that looked a bit like a talon
draw closer into its body before melting away into the
shagginess in much the same way the markings of a snake
might simmer down into a pile of leaves, hoping the
heavy tread of the interloper might pass, and I sensed
its need to disappear completely and knew it was only
me who could grant such peace, or lash out where its
head might lay, and I made my choice, unswayed, I think,
by the scent of fear and closed the door and looked
to where he lay in bed and said, There’s nothing there.