The Critter in My Wall AND Surprise Visitor

The November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge today gives us two prompts: 'Concealed' and 'Unconcealed'.

The Critter in My Wall

Behind the wall,

inside the wall,

I hear you scrabble and slide.

I hear you pause

then scrape your claws

on the plaster from inside.

At times you rest.

I like that best.

I can forget you're here.

But then you wake,

you thump and creak.

You're loud, and much too near.

You're not a rat.

Too slow for that,

and you don't squeak or gnaw.

A possum? Not.

They stir at night

and sleep by day. Therefore,

Intruder, Sir,

I think you are

a lizard of some kind.

Now that we've got

this far with it,

it reassures my mind.

Electric wires

will not start fires

because you will not chew 'em.

You will not die

and stink, so I 

don't care what else you're doing.

You come and go.

It's clear you know

the ways both out and in.

I have no say —

but you can stay

in your space, me in mine.

We're off the street,

we're safe from heat

or rain or hail or blizzard.

And after all

not every wall

contains a resident lizard.

Surprise Visitor

I was sitting in my garden,

resting with closed eyes,

when from across the courtyard

I heard a sudden noise.

From in the biggest plant pot,

which supposedly was empty,

there came a scrabbling sound,

sharp and indeed peremptory.

A prehistoric beast

raised its monstrous head,

turned and gazed at me

as if to strike me dead.

I wanted just one photo.

I ran to fetch my phone.

But he was quick and stealthy.

I returned to find him gone.

I never thought to see

a splendid water dragon —

one of the lizard sort —

in my suburban garden.

His brown and bony head,

his fixed and knowing gaze,

his knobbed and spiky body

continue to amaze.

I've never seen him since

(or her — it might be her)

but noises in my wall
perhaps ... I'm almost sure.