The Puma Years

by Laura Coleman

I realise she hadn’t looked small in the cage, she’d looked squashed. And now, outside, she’s expanded to fill what she should have been filling all along.

sunning herself on her throne.

Wilderness hangs off her.

She smells of the jungle floor, rain and damp mud.

Walking was what she wanted to do.

staring into the water, she’s trying to find her courage. But she’s afraid.

The bravado, the hissing and growling, they’re her coping mechanisms, just as smiling and being fine is mine.

She’s surreal, otherworldly.

Around us, the jungle doesn’t pause, doesn’t cease, but it listens, always.

Not a princess. A queen.

There’s a marvelling look in her eyes. A questioning look.

Over and over, she’s taught me that maybe it does hurt to get close to someone. But also, maybe, it’s worth it. A million times, it’s worth it.