TO SMELL A RAT
Sometimes poems have no other function than to tell a story. This one is a true story from a time we lived in a house on the edge of the village where mice, snakes and rats would find a way into the cellar and up the stairs. I was advised to rub garlic cloves on the stone steps to stop the snakes climbing but it had no effect on the mice or on at least one occasion, a rat. After 20 years I can still both shudder and smile at the memory of the rat in the kitchen. TO SMELL A RAT I once shared my kitchen with a rat, sniffed its musty presence, hunted it down with a quivering nose, scouring shelves, bleaching drains, still the fusty stench remained. Till the day I traced it, raised the cooker lid and faced it, nestled in orange fluff, hairless worm tail coiled round dirty dank fur, unblinking coal eyes stared at me. Resourceful this rat, wrapped in insulation whilst I stood stirring sauces, absently b...