My thanks to Storyteller’s Poetry Review and Sharon Knutson for publishing my poem in a special collection called “When Nature Turns Nasty.” Many great (and funny) poems here.
An eye-watering, acrid smell
told us a skunk was under the porch.
The dog offered to kill it for us
or at least nudge it, but we declined
and called the varmint guy
who assured the tearful kids
the skunk would have a new home far away
and set a wire trap with stuff skunks like –
marshmallows and cat food.
Next morning, sure enough,
there was the skunk, munching marshmallows,
not even knowing he was caught.
The varmint guy came back, armed
with a large white sheet, a vial of ether
and safety goggles “just in case.”
He told us to stand back.
We did.
He held the sheet arms-wide in front
(so the skunk sees only blankness, he explained)
and inched slowly toward the trap.
(You don’t hurry blankness.)
The skunk still munched, enjoying the marshmallows.
Finally, the sheet dropped over the cage,
the ether slipped underneath,
the munching stopped, and the kids
approved a sweetly sleeping skunk.
Then skunk, cage, sheet, 2 half-eaten
marshmallows and a cat food can went in the truck,
and off they drove to wherever needs more skunks.
The dog sniffed the crime scene.
And it struck me how we humans go along
munching our marshmallows and cat food
while blankness closes in,
and then one day we wake up
to no marshmallows and an awful headache,
wondering what the hell happened.
Sarah Russell Poetry 