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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