Geez, that's an alliterative blog title. I thought it might be interesting to dig out a poem I wrote in 2009 about the panther that is thought by some to live wild in my south London suburb.
It's the first time I wrote about it, an idea that would develop greatly for PANTHER. The poem was published in my university writing journal Vortex, and subsequently in another nationwide journal - unfortunately I can't remember which!
Anyway, here it is!
Penge Panther
David Owen
It's just past midnight
and someone has spotted
the panther.
Finally, after weeks
of paw prints in the garden,
spurned offerings of Whiskas,
we can rouse the dogs
and bait them on their leads,
check the batteries in the camera,
raise the torches
from under the stairs.
We see a tail on every shadow
amongst the lamp posts
until enough bedroom lights
blink up to expose them
like bonfires at a witch hunt.
We put the dogs ahead of us
(as if they'd stand a chance)
and turn onto the allotment path.
Even the police are out,
the purr of a helicopter
lingering overhead, a shred
of paper spiralling
on the breeze.
Its searchlight startles
the foxes, steeps the greenhouses
in the splendour of ghosts.
But it's us that find it first,
tinderbox eyes in the torchlight
brooding on the alien landscape
of carrots, the irregular
broken stems of bean poles.
For years we will hush our
children
at the noise in the garden,
press our faces to the window.
-----
I plan to write more about what inspired PANTHER in the future, including more panther sighting stories. So check back soon for more!
It's the first time I wrote about it, an idea that would develop greatly for PANTHER. The poem was published in my university writing journal Vortex, and subsequently in another nationwide journal - unfortunately I can't remember which!
Anyway, here it is!
Penge Panther
David Owen
It's just past midnight
and someone has spotted
the panther.
Finally, after weeks
of paw prints in the garden,
spurned offerings of Whiskas,
we can rouse the dogs
and bait them on their leads,
check the batteries in the camera,
raise the torches
from under the stairs.
We see a tail on every shadow
amongst the lamp posts
until enough bedroom lights
blink up to expose them
like bonfires at a witch hunt.
We put the dogs ahead of us
(as if they'd stand a chance)
and turn onto the allotment path.
Even the police are out,
the purr of a helicopter
lingering overhead, a shred
of paper spiralling
on the breeze.
Its searchlight startles
the foxes, steeps the greenhouses
in the splendour of ghosts.
But it's us that find it first,
tinderbox eyes in the torchlight
brooding on the alien landscape
of carrots, the irregular
broken stems of bean poles.
For years we will hush our
children
at the noise in the garden,
press our faces to the window.
-----
I plan to write more about what inspired PANTHER in the future, including more panther sighting stories. So check back soon for more!
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