Frank hosts haibun Monday (moon day) at dVerse poets’ pub.
Cats hunt by the light of the moon, on the prowl for frightened mice, lost birds, or warm baby bunnies. They slink sleekly; wait with tail twitching…then pounce without an ounce of apology. Cats are soft fur & purr, sharp fang & claw. They yowl and croon at the midnight hour. Mating is a loud caterwauling affair…must lust happen just below an open window?
mysterious moon
catwalks across night sky
gleams in black cat’s eye
a poem in my pocket 
Oct 02, 2020 @ 00:28:47
Creatures of the night and then they come home, sit on your lap and purr! Cat is that, just that, but you know Lynn judging by your poem. 🐱
Oct 02, 2020 @ 11:04:49
Yes, and a cat on your lap is purr-fectly irresistible!
Oct 21, 2020 @ 09:26:20
😉
Sep 30, 2020 @ 03:57:54
This made me chuckle. Cats obey their own rules only. 😊
Sep 30, 2020 @ 07:29:39
So true 🙂
Sep 29, 2020 @ 17:34:45
an awesome description of those killing machines!
Sep 29, 2020 @ 19:28:56
It’s in their DNA…thanks, Kate.