Author David Brooks My panther is active tonight, hungry, intent, nobody’s business but her own not content to leave me gutted by moonlight, I must be her lair-thing, her skin-to-lie-on, her gnawed bone. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Reviews Post review No reviews yet. Log in or register to post comments