Hour Twelve: Nine Lives

Nine lives to live, a tree’d cat mews;

I climb up high to rescue Boots,

the calico con artist

Cheshire smile peeking through

leaf clusters, hiding

protracted claws

awaiting hands

reaching out

to scratch






6 thoughts on “Hour Twelve: Nine Lives

  1. I agree with Bhasha – I love cats and this was a fabulous nonet – my cat Rusty used to get caught in all kinds of tight messes and the same thing – his thank you was usually a scratch, and then a purr and cuddle later, when he settled after the stress…

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