THE MYSTIC MAZE
The part-Persian kitty weaves through the puzzle debris
checking out ornate cups
of Grogg. Curious of
these human companions sitting at her table,
daring to move the “chess” pieces
in various shapes. She could use them for better
than time-waste, could nibble
like a tea biscuit.
She’ll not let down her defenses. They must think
she is an ordinary house cat.
She won’t even “meow,” lest they
reach out to attack her fur with long stroke rubs.
But that kid! She can’t escape
the one who puts her to chase
as if she is the mouse, fallen into his trap.
Still, she gets her exercise
hopping over “hot coals,”
again that mystic maze puzzle,
through the legs
of the giant chairs,
“leaping-lizards” downstairs,
on the run, not
on the prowl
til she exhausts the kid.
The kid is her undoing.
Now he is two-fisting a ball,
in the air. She dare
not stare. He will
begin his bull-run again.
Kitty hides in the shadows, but darn,
she hears the pitter-patter of food into her bowl
and she’s thirsty, too.
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