24
Jan
10

To A Brownish Tabby

Canny acrobat with a kitten’s face
Her tricks owe more to luck than grace.
Balancing on three feet, one in the air
Making flawless toes, grooming hair.
Performs some sleight of hand with catnip mice
Then leaps- Eliza crossing ice-
Up toward the armoire, showing off once more;
Target missed she slips to the floor.
Wee cat, when you’re chasing piggies or curled snug on the bed
Who could recall it seeming you’ve not a brain in your head?

(Because tomorrow is Robert Burns’ birthday, I attempted this homage.)

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