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

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