a short poem told from the point of view of a cat stalking its prey |
Feline Sleek, purposeful, graceful— A balance of beauty and strength Moving, stalking, effortless, Silently into the night Keen eyes whip around, peer into the dark, Take note of every detail, every movement Weightlessly, perfectly balanced, Only one thought on her mind: Find the prey, rat him out Then quietly close in for the kill One foot in front of the other Senses heightened, set on alert Follow the track, the musky stench, Smell the fresh fear on the air Around the next corner she sees him— A mouse, hiding in his hole Her muscles tense; She is ready “Come closer,” softly she purrs A swish of her tail, She scatters the leaves Exposing her unlucky victim Quicker than sound, He is off and away, A terrified smudge of gray fur Exultant, thrilled, she pauses a moment Tenses, prepares for the chase— In this she is famous; a terror Her skill unmatched, and she knows it Powerful, lithe—a bullet Her body a streamlined machine Quicker and quicker, she’s gaining Steadily, her prey loses ground She tightens her strong legs like springs With a cry, they snap, and she pounces; lands with great skill on her target And flexes her razor-sharp claws… |