Cool Cat

The cold is new
after days of heat
and the cat’s fur stands up
a razor ridge along his back

he makes his legs stiff and straight:
he crab-walks left
he crab-walks right

he digs at nothing in the grass

then runs off down the lawn
          like a mad fool
full out long curved claws,
erect whiskers and ears,
and a soundless laugh everyone can hear.

-Kevin Trammel

About ktrammel

Author of Gathered Rain, and Between the Hours, which can be found on Amazon. Read more on my sites,, or
This entry was posted in Around the House, Cats, Literature, Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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