Its leg was not broken. It was not homeless.
It clenched in my hands, a living flinch.
You cannot love so much and live,
it whispered, its spines clicking like teeth.
I hid it from itself in a cardboard box.
Overnight it nibbled a hole and slipped away.
I cried so much my mother thought I?d never stop.
She said, you cannot love so ? and yet
I grew to average size and amused a lot of people
with my prickliness and brilliant escapes.
from Take Me With You (Bloodaxe Books, 2005), ? Polly Clark 2005, used by permission of the author and the publisher.