Epiphany Poem by Sheena Blackhall

After a timed access,
A trip back to the country,
The beast appeared.
'A present from Dad, ' my son said.
'I'm going to keep it.'
A statement, not a plea.

It lay at the foot of the bag,
A closed comma. Musky,
The colour of honey
Around the tail.

A grown ferret.
The eyes, two hard pink nails
Hammered the lid on its thought.
Straight off as I lifted it
It bit me down to the bone,
A message from its master.

Spite carrier? Loss-stater? Pet?
A ferret trilogy. It stayed.
I fed it. Loved it even, in its red cage
Where it raged at everything,
Snapping at the mesh,
A one-sided argument
Behind the hum of the TV,
The clatter of spoons,
It haunted the city garden, breeding guilt
I thought of cubs dragged from the den,
Claws cut, teeth filed,
The scent all wrong,
The way to the woods bricked up.