A Thorough Cat
Between the apple tree and trampolineour piratical cat with black-patched eye,
flashes his white tail, fixes the green stare
on I as I hang the washing to dry.
A seagull’s feathers blanket the grass,
a snowdrift that’s forgotten to melt.
Our villain inspects his undertaking,
a shroud laid out to receive itself.
He’s not a cat who hunts merely for sport
or the kind to look shamed, consumed by guilt
like a cannibal at a boiling pot.
He does not play with the prey he has killed.
I hear the crunch of small bones: he devours
frogs, slow worms, fish and birds of the air
in efficient and unsparing fashion.
Tomorrow these feathers will not be there.
Poetry by Ray Miller
Read 15 times
Written on 2025-02-27 at 09:36
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Ray Miller |
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D G Moody |
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