There? Is that a?- There! In the window!

My name is Manon and sometimes I hear the sea speak, I hear the wind whisper, I hear the trees scream, but mostly I see

[manonoftheforest]

Selkie saw something yesterday

Whatever it is has her spooked but-

Not for herself it's like she's spooked for me.

Maybe it has something to do with the scratching sounds in the sink, and the woods, and-

She's making this horrible, indescribable noise

And it almost sounds like victory.

The trees they've- they used to be meters away from my house and now

Their feet away

I think whatever she did- whatever has her making those sounds, it had something to do with the trees.

I think the trees are like Selkie- I think the whole forest is really

The scratching is louder now, I have a feeling it won't be happening for long.

Not if Selkie- or the Trees for that matter- have a say in it.

[manonoftheforest]

Something about the smell of dead bark

It brings me back to a time when the earth and her daughters freely roamed.

Selkie has brought another dead thing into the house.

It is too alive

And it speaks a tongue so old it was old when the earth mother was new.

It told me many things, stories of things long past and alive.

One story in particular stood out.

"There once was a friend of old, it's wings were many and it's eyes were none and all. It hopped it croaked, it cackled it ran. Never did it speak. Until one day, drops of wet fell from the sky, and it spoke"

It was not a good story, and the dead-alive thing seemed to know this.

Sometimes the dead-alive thing spoke in rhyme and riddle, sometimes it spoke freely. However it never made sense.

Selkie ate it whole.

[manonoftheforest]

My cat, Selkie, sometimes she sits so still

Sometimes her shadow seems to curl around me

Selkie loves me, I'm sure of that, but sometimes her form shakes

And she's everything and nothing at once

She smells of dirt sometimes, dirt from graves. I do not understand how I know that smell

Selkie often comes home, a frog in her mouth, amd sometimes that frog is too big, too toothy. Too alive

She came from my mother, from my grandmother, who got her from her grandmother, who got her from her grandmother, who says she came from a well so deep in the forest.

A forest that couldn't possibly be that deep, out crawled a cat who possibly couldn't be that old.

I fear Selkie may not be a cat at all, but then she lays on my chest, and purrs so loud, so deep, I think nothing more of it