‘Eleven Ways of Looking at a Blackbird Killed by your Cat’
When a cat chews the skull of a mouse,
it makes the eyes pop out.
As Boris crouches down to stalk
the birds on the lawn,
he calls to them, low and inquiring.
Is he excited? playful?
Perhaps he hopes to talk them into his mouth.
A broken dragonfly
clattering on the floor
makes an excellent toy.
Delilah prances in, chirruping
through a mouthful of starling.
How pretty it is, in its spring plumage,
glossed with green and purple.
The little darts of white
are like a cartoon convict uniform.
This is the thirteenth young dead rat
in the last three days.
To the rat’s nest, Boris must seem
like a wrathful god.
If I was a cat, I wouldn’t be so quick
to stick my paw into dark holes
just to see what’s in them.
A furry thing underfoot;
cat toy, or dead mouse?
Posy, you have a spider leg
stuck on the side of your mouth.