A Poem for National Poetry Month: The Luckless Hunter




The Luckless Hunter



I saw the cat come stalking,
come stalking through the trees,
gold with sun-gilt fur, and quiet pawed.
It came to catch the pale brown doves.
It came to catch the pigeons.
It came to catch the blithe songbirds.
It came to feed its kittens.
I saw the cat come stalking,
and a magic spell I wove,
to try and draw it to me,
but, instead, the magic drove
the silent hunter from me,
sent it far away,
speeding in soft-pawed panic
free to hunt another day.

(Copyright, C.M. Simpson, April 13, 2017)

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