Nose pointed at the star, one of our cats
squats under our wobbly tree. Half way up
she appears in an electric charged cosmos
through branches and silver swags
one striped ear dangling a gold circlet
We coax, we plead, offer a butterfly
on a stick. But one by one they drop
plink, plink, plink and hide in corners
ready for her to claw back when summer
carries us out to sea, pine and moor.
Click on the picture to find the cat
Season’s Greetings to All.