The Last Thylacine

That day they’d killed a sheep.
no refrigeration in Mawbanna, 1930,
so Lily was in the kitchen all day, minding
pies, stews and jellies.
Exhausting, with would-be chitterlings left over.

If she hadn’t stood outside to cool off,
if the moon hadn’t been so bright,
if she hadn’t been so lonely –
But she did. It was. She was. She saw
movement under the blue gum trees.

She began feeding the pups at the back door.
Sometimes just a dish of oatmeal,
and once threw a crust to the lurking mother,
trust forming like wispy spider’s web
catching on twigs.

If he hadn’t just lost a hen,
if he hadn’t been holding his gun,
if his dog had been less eager to please –
But he had. He was. She was. He saw
movement under the blue gum trees.

The last wild thylacine, or Tasmanian pouched wolf, was shot by farmer Wilf Batty in 1930. A few individuals in zoos lasted a bit longer, but by 1940 they were declared extinct.

Diana Newson has a background in science but has written poetry and fiction all her life, starting with her school magazine. Since retiring from full-time work to care for her mum, she has had the chance to write more poetry and has joined a couple of poetry groups. She lives in Norfolk, is 61, and has 3 rescue hens, 3 rescue cats, a husband, and her mum in her happy little household.