The cat has deadly daggers in her softly padded paws;
Razor sharp, slicing, gashing—
Lethal points, puncturing, gouging.
With artful cunning, she stalks my yard,
Gaging my every move.
Her mouth opens, sliding, back over
Ivory fangs—Vampire like
Fixing her gaze and toothy grin,
A hush gushes forth, hot and snarling.
Prickles from inside me
Pierce my rigid skin.
Rushing to the door, I lock it—
Shut her out.
The blood in my veins
Brush her fangs—or so it seems.
A ragged breath escapes my lungs
As a droplet of spittle falls
From her soft pink tongue.
Something trickles from my forehead
And I draw a steady breath, though myself not.
But safe behind the door and screen
I’m OK now—I know I am.
I wait to be sure.
She’s still there
Watching me.
Wickedly calm—I know her ilk.
I turn away to fix myself
Some warm milk.
I stumble,
Gash my shin against a table,
Fix my tonic and slump into a chair.
I gulp at the air—it’s free here,
No hot hush to disturb my returning calm.
Thick red fluid oozes from my wound.
Over there, outside the door
She’s lurking.
Calm
And
Steady
I train my breath.
Outer muscles respond,
Relax.
Startling sounds of something crashing, gashing,
Ripping through my stillness!
Twenty pointed talons tearing at the screen—
She’s broken through!
My arms dart upward
Toward a flying mass of fur and claws.
I catch her in my grip and hurl her to the floor.
A wincing meow splits the air.
Confronted now, we watch each other—
I stare into the dark centers
Of her evil eyes. She blinks
And lowers her gaze. She licks my
wound,
Then rubs her face against my ankle.
A low rumbling sound comes from her belly
And she curls into a ball
At my feet.
I bristle.
But I have won.
B. Benjamin
For Alan Javurek’s birthday
Free verse
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