Some days it feels like herding cats…
& Me, their tasty hunted rat.
Skittish eyes dart over shoulders.
Scrambling to avoid beholders.
Home’s a hole with a bustling den.
Warm mice warren: no cats nor men.
Still, feline hunters on display.
Might as well be a mile away.
How to my home can I now go?
This gauntlet holds sure death, I know.
Stick to shadows & stay alert.
Please, make my ears & eyelids pert.
Careful & steady forward, fine.
One faulty move & cats will dine.
Claws miss a tail swallowed by wall.
Crucible survived after all.
L.B.Stowe 