The Bird Killer
Green eyes with black fur
she was a small cat more feral than pet
Across the street supposedly her home
but she lived where ever she roamed
My yard is where the birds feed
so many had birdbaths for seed
Doves frequent my front yard
gorging seed like they were starve
A dozen fat doves feasting in a bird bath
black cat senses make her plot a path
Like a ninja in silence she begins
with patience a dove feast to win
Across the street slow and sure
into the yard without a purr
Up to the center garden behind plants
as the doves peck seeds she advance
Softly stealth almost a slide
underneath the birdbath she hides
Sees the doves plumb and fat
a second she jumps doves scat
Fear they flew up in the sky
except for the one no goodbye
She carries it with hurry in her mouth
across the street to her base house
There her and kittens feast on feathers and flesh
a sweet fat dove felines favorite dish
Doves weary and afraid
do not come back that day.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
