First Skunk - March 28 2024

 

First Skunk

March 28 2024

The skunk didn’t spray.

But neither did it flee, budge, back off.

Which I understand,

because if deterrence could prevent nuclear war

I expect it could save a skunk

as well as us.

So the pup continued to bark;

circling warily,

then sinking down on her front legs

and popping up again,

eager to play

but not quite sure.

Her first skunk;

so perhaps

some ancestral instinct told her no,

or she was thrown off

by the unblinking sang-froid

of this novel animal.

If only I could go through life

with such imperious calm,

the swaggering confidence

that’s born of respect

but also fear.

In all the excitement

my frantic commands were ignored.

While the skunk soon sauntered off,

corrupting the air

with its pungently odious scent.

Walking

as if it had all the time in the world.

As if the sea

would part in front of it.

As if a royal procession

had favoured the hoi polloi

with a regal walkabout,

while the commoners, suitably cowed

were backing off

and averting their eyes.

I can only imagine

floating through life that way.

Nothing to fear

no reason to rush.

The threat

of the doomsday weapon

so simply conveyed

with a single white stripe

and shrug of the tail;

that cold-eyed stare

of entitlement.