A First Meeting
His first sight is a flash of red in his eye line.
He darts for the safety of oak –
so often he plays the hunted,
despite the blade of his jaw.
His sharp eyes settle on the slender girl.
She carries her basket tenderly,
protecting the sweetness inside.
Her mother has taught her to be good.
The plumped dough of the bread and rise
of the cake is not his interest. He imagines her cape
lying fleshless on the grass,
how her skin would feel beneath his claws.
He jumps from his cover, unsure how to strike
conversation. He points to wild flowers,
talks of their beauty under morning sun, asks
why don’t you pick them? She follows his gaze.
Claire Walker’s poetry has appeared in magazines, anthologies and websites including The Interpreter’s House, Ink Sweat and Tears, And Other Poems, Clear Poetry and Crystal Voices. Her first pamphlet, The Girl Who Grew Into a Crocodile, is published by V. Press. Her website is clairewalkerpoetry.com.