In Praise of Feral Felines – Poetry

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Photo by 42 North on Unsplash

A plumb line drops

(I know not where)

by which feral cats are judged

and marked ‘outside the bounds.’

I always saw their resistance to compassion

as a noble trait

along with their intemperate hisses

at attempts to conquest.

 

Feral, yes,

but less skulky than the shark

with its fin erect

and its teeth obscured.

Burnish me a reputation 

that allows for feline wild-ness

and I will bare for all

my teeth

and ruffled fur

Then slink behind some barn

and breathe a curse upon your home

with all its domesticated litter boxes

and countermanded claws 

–Alex Joyner

1 Comment

  1. This poem made my day! My next door neighbors and I spent at least a decade trapping, spaying, neutering, feeding, and caring for a colony of ferals in our neighborhood. My inside cat Bebe was an orphan from that old colony. We have only two or three cats outside now, thank goodness.

    Liked by 1 person

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