Drop Bear

My first poem in a while. Inspired loosely by where I live.

Drop Bear

Deep in the bush of Australia,

lives a creature fierce and wild,

that creeps around the tree tops,

nature’s least well-adjusted child.

It waits above the walking trails,

with murderous furry flair,

proof that even cuddly wildlife

can have anger issues there.

Forget the snakes and spiders,

they’re merely opening acts,

the Drop Bear turns brave tourists

into cautionary facts.

Tourists laugh, call it a myth,

“Just koalas, soft and sweet.”

'Till a rustle breaks the silence,

and the beast lands at their feet.

Its eyes burn with eucalyptus rage,

its patience very thin,

a fluffy blur of mayhem,

wrapped in claws with violent whim.

The locals know survival skills,

bush wisdom, strange but fair,

a smear of Vegemite behind the ears,

and nervous glances everywhere.

Park rangers dodge interrogation,

their smiles fake and voices blunt,

“Stay on marked trails, mate,”

they know where it likes to hunt.

So if you hike through Aussie scrub,

beneath the blazing summer glare,

remember: fear the quiet branches,

Drop Bear may be waiting there.

By E. M. Page