Playful Killer

There she's crouched, body low to the ground;

Eyes alert, ears ready for any sound; Her footfalls are silent, soft and light; Her hackles are raised, she's ready to fight.

It is dark, but she can see;

Her pupils dilate, rimmed with green; The prey she stalks is unaware Of his coming demise---I warn him, Beware!

Mais non, he cannot see the danger;

Already it's too late, I'll wager. Yes, she springs! But to no avail--- I grab the bird, and Sheba sails...

...Through the air, but lands on feet;

She turns and her eyes mine meet. I know she's vexed, but not forever; See, she's playing with a feather.

I let the little bird fly away

He's free to live another day. As for my cat, she still will play... I wish her good hunting anyway.

By the Blue Rose, Nov. 18th, 1997