For months, I’ve
heard your wanderings,
traced your path behind painted walls.
Clawing, scampering, scraping
noises puncture my conscious mind;
you’re stealth when others are near.
Oh, creature in my attic,
I know your game-
your clever maneuvering,
has made me question my sanity.
my husband discovered
the scattered evidence
of your clandestine presence.
A months-overdue “told you so”
crosses my satisfied lips.
Soon, a baited metal cage
will, with any hope,
further prove my point.
Inspiration: This poem is written to whatever has been making itself at home in our attic. For months, I’ve complained of noises in the walls only to have my husband tell me it was squirrels on the roof. Whenever I called him to hear the clawing sounds for himself, it would stop. He’d pass me a I-think-you’ve-lost-your-mind look and head back downstairs. (I don’t know for sure, but writing poetry to attic-dwelling animals could be a solid sign of insanity!)
Well, crazy must be contagious because the kids heard the noises, too. And the cats began pouncing at walls (chasing noises that up until that point, the crafty creature made me suspect were only in my head.)
Finally, last weekend, my husband heard scratching/scampering and asked me, “Did you hear that?”
A small part of me wanted to say, “no” and play it off like he was nuts. Instead, I replied, “I told you something is in the attic!”
A good “I told you so” wins every time 🙂