Foul feline

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

We’ve fallen out, the cat and I,
For gratitude’s illusion
Has been destroyed and left no doubt
That it was mere delusion.
*
I gave the benefit of doubt,
Accepting there was reason
For cats to bring their keepers gifts
…But now it’s hunting season.
*
The rat, that I could understand,
Instinct exterminating.
(Though hiding it behind the couch
Is something worth debating…)
*
The baby fieldmouse, still alive…
Or maybe just a vole,
With careful panic from my son
Was caught, released, still whole.
*
The blue-tit was a tragedy,
Pale yellow feathers flew.
The baby starling, minus head,
Appeared out of the blue.
*
The robin was the final straw,
Just laid there on the floor,
But newly fledged, its heart exposed,
His voice would sing no more.
*
So we had words, the cat and I,
I made my feelings plain
And told the homicidal cat

View original post 212 more words