Pet Peeve

(for Jupiter)

He climbs the hillside in the rain

lies in the tall grass, perfectly still

watching, waiting, for as long as it takes

his mouth slightly open 

to still the sound of his breathing

When a dripping blade of grass makes 

a tiny movement in the wrong direction

his eyes narrow

his legs gather under him, ready to spring

after the pounce, he holds the prey steady,

bites the struggling prey

bites again, most cruelly, 

'til blood runs down his throat

and the struggling stops

My pet is peeved with me.

He wants a companion

A companion to hunt with in the tall grass

I tell him:

If only I were a cat, too,

I would climb the hill in the rain

I would lie in the grass with you

I would pounce and bite 

and bite again, most cruelly.

          --Agatha