Lucy
My feline’s eyes reflect her ginger hues.
She follows my man everywhere she can.
Her tracking sight chases away the blues.
But when squirrels discovered her, they ran.
She travels with us, a definite plus.
She likes to go fast, so step on the gas.
She ignores all limits. Yes, cats can cuss!
She likes to fish, quietly, wait for bass.
A middle-aged cat can still be a brat.
She gnaws on my cord like something abhorred.
But a yell from the man cancels all that.
With an innocent look, she drops the cord.
A cat in the house trumps any old mouse.
All her checks done, she’s asleep on my blouse.
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