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 Cats by Andrew Miller Their movements sleek and almost hypnotic Seeking to find the elusive prey With quickness unseen in many living things, unleashed, unable to be kept at bay Their wild eyes alive with fire, not unlike a deranged lunatic Limberness unmatched and used, dexterity of the utmost They run acrossed the prairies, free from the embodiment of human existence Ruled by emotion, not tied down by meticulous thought and earthly circumstance They thrust their magic hips, and scorch the earth with their pace, the grassy knolls no match for their feline host It sees its quarry, silent and ever watchful, aware and afraid Quickly and deliberately it moves, all the while fixing its gaze on its meat-filled foe. It hesitates, not wanting the targets terror filled organs to react, and though It makes not, a sound, it breaks the surface of a single blade of grass, its confidence slayed The animal perks up and dashes for the safety of the woods, dark and inviting Swiftly the cat moves, communing with the air, his hot flesh yearning for sweet meat The animal has no chance, succumbing to the overwhelming and awesome speed of the cat's feet It is brought down, making the earth shake, a piercing cry reverberates form its throat, dry and crackling. Quickly he snaps the neck, rendering the animal without memory or pain It becomes limp, and its body gives way, life's last breath leaving its bloody lips The cat feeds, ravenous and greedy, necessity calls for this, with its vice like grips Another falls in the circle of life, by the cat, the king who shall always reign
Copyright © 2002 Andrew Miller, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines |
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