Rodento Mori
Zoe Davis
I found you in the garden
frigid.
Winter up to the knees
a photo
I’m reminded of each year.
You had not expected
the weight of the season either
tangled in bed sheet
sail-like shroud
I hoped would carry you
far from here
to warmer climes
your tiny form
hardened in negative of memory.
Despite door-step protests
I picked you up
tender.
Cradled as a new-born
I dug into frozen earth
to place you within
its opposing firmament
gently.
Fitting of the status
bestowed upon you
despite to some
you being
just
a rat.
Zoe Davis is an emerging writer from Sheffield, England. A quality engineer in advanced manufacturing by day, she spends her evenings and weekends writing poetry and prose, and especially enjoys exploring the interaction between the fantastical and the mundane, with a deeply personal edge to her work. You can find her words in publications such as: Ink Sweat & Tears, Strix, Illumen Magazine, Dust and Red Ogre Review. You can also follow her on X @MeanerHarker where she's always happy to have a virtual coffee and a chat.