In a rustle at dusk

heart fled my lungs

my eardrums thumped

and ribs clenched

until I saw you


on still-warm bricks:

a creature

more curious

than afraid;

ink-nib eyes     moon-tip tail    arrow-snout

We stood nose-to-nose

for more than a moment.

Above us, leaves quaked

with the weight

of your mate.

Still, you stared

until a horn yelped

on the motorway above

and up you dashed

zigzag   zigzag

through wire and branch   wire and branch.

Your unblinking gaze

sewed whiskers

on my cheeks.

Now I have six senses

with which to walk

our streets.

– Naomi Byrnes

Prompt: instinct