She is the sleek feral cat
disabling the scrub jay to prolong his agony,
leaving only his feathers
for others to discover
and ponder.
She is the sleek feral cat
batting at the lizard who plots his escape,
not realizing she'll
never be satisfied
with just a trophy tail.
She is the sleek feral cat
caterwauling to taunt the oversized dog,
proving to passersby
best friends could be
more selective.
She is the sleek feral cat
whom I mistakenly think of
as mine.
[The women at Sunday Scribblings gave this prompt as "something a little lighter for a change." Um, I didn't really go in that direction. But check out the other writers' offerings for the joy of toys.]
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8 comments:
I really liked it. Each stanza and the ending!
wrath of nature
There was a marvellous sense of danger to this. loved it.
Feral cats have a ton of toys! Nice poem!
Hot enough for you? :) I have a feral cat too. Wonderful poem.
Dangerous cat indeed! I really enjoyed this poem! My response to the prompt wasnt full of joy either lol! oh well;)
Nice one....
yikes! scary cats!
Love it! Great imagery. I'm so glad you mistakenly think of her as yours.
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