Pussy poem

Cats whiskers must have been ringing

the feline flash flew off the kitchen table

out the flap, flap, flap, cat door

dove patrol no doubt, her duty to catdom

sleuthing out those feather dusters.

Her head cocked left

blue shards watching

only the metronome in her tail

alive

before the moment of decisive action

erupting in a Vesuvius of downy delight.