I was mooching around outside,
sort of idly, when I felt I was being
watched. Like these detestable eyes
were upon me. I can’t be certain
it’s the thick-set offender, but
my heart and head tell me it’s so.
I fear the cycle of persecution will start
anew. Out of frustrated anger, I kick
the kerb and stub my toe. I must go
inside and share this. Mother will have
a hysterical meltdown. I know she felt
assured this couldn’t happen
in her perfect leafy suburb.
I am afraid our feral intruder
has caught the scent. That he plans
to clamp his jaws over our lives.
That he shall take pleasure doing it.