You have survived January nights at 30 below
dodged trucks careening down back alleys
sensed bogus treats of antifreeze
eluded budding psychos who would duct tape your legs together
and leave you on the railway tracks.
Your coat is ginger clotted hairballs
raised bloody scars criss-cross your broad skull with its ragged ears.
Your ribs show and your belly is slack so you accept the food
warily at first, then gulp it down
pause
to look behind you.
Then you are off to familiar haunts of alleys and derelict buildings
rife with predators
stronger and bigger than you.
But your claws are still sharp, teeth like needles and legs supple to carry
you away from danger.
And you will live to fight another day.
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I have known cats like this. They are inspiring, for sure. Your details are so precise – is this a cat you know?
And hey, welcome to yeah write! Hope we get to see more of you on the grids!
Hi Christine,
This cat is an amalgam of various cats that drop by my yard from time to time, all shapes and size – thanks for the welcome!
I am a softy for a ginger cat. Especially one that has experienced such an unfortunate life like the one you write about here. I like how “pause” works here: the image and the slowing down of the lines.
I like ginger cats as well, for some reason my own cat is a Siamese – thanks for your comments!