Daily Poetry & Prose

When six days long a lifetime seems to pass, a bomb held like a kitten in a glass. The second glance becomes a look that lasts, while fat cats count the vowels during mass.

The feline crept along the wall the ivy brushing up against her fur she was seeking a small mouse which she saw run in the shadow along the wall The garbage trucks and puddles splashed but it did not dim her determination in the street light she could still sense the rumbling of his tiny feet.