At the first light of dawn
When there is little supposed to be going on
Stirs the tiniest of curious fluff ball kitties
Starting at the bottom of the bed
Near defenseless tender toes
If only they could pray to be passed up
Straight to the unsuspecting nose
Luckily tonight there will be no fright
For fortunately this night they will only suffer a whisker's tickle
As for lack of motion of rejection to venture on was this smitten kitten
Onward softly she trotted up the heal, calf, and thigh
Then slowly crawled up the spine
Before spying an enemy formidable of stalking so fine
Above the head on top of a board boldly sat another feline
Good thing it was about to be morning because right then is when both cats decided to pounce without warning
About the Creator
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More stories from McKenzie McQuade and writers in Poets and other communities.
New Normal
There is always a moment — small, quiet, almost forgettable — when the spark stops being a warning and becomes a state. It never looks like a turning point from the outside. It’s not a dramatic shift. It’s not a cinematic beat. It’s a subtle internal click, a recalibration so slight that only someone who has lived this cycle as many times as I have would recognize it.
By Elisa Wontorcika day ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Awww, this was so adorable! Loved your poem!