Cat cries

Photo ©Monsieur McChickenpants

chaussettes

Cat cries

Sleek, a special model,

In the dark tunnels of her thoughts,

A swallow-flitting urge,

Velvet soft as deep forests,

Half grasped, a picture of a time

So long ago,

To creep, belly to ground,

Follow the faint scuttle skitter tracks

Of field mouse,

To climb, silent as death and pounce,

Crush warm brown feathers,

Taste the blood

And fill an empty belly.

Cat cries,

Stomach stretched tight with cold, grey mush,

And the window glass shines brightly

Instead of pale daylight on lake water.

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Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

12 thoughts on “Cat cries”

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