The Girton Poetry Group

Not Averse

He who made the Lamb

Columbo-standard,

Crouching cold-nose,

Eyes like a noose, nipping

Natural paper edges.

Through the undulating skink

Night she sulks,

Two cigar butts dunking themselves

In the undergrowth.

Silent drip-drops of water from pelt.

Soundless patter of padding paws.

A pant in the night,

Panthera Tigris gulps the moon.