She bares her pointed teeth meanly –
right to the gums – mouthing
menaces at the sparrow
as her eyes narrow and she hisses
that asthmatic comic hiss.
Deep down though, I’m sure
she knows she wouldn’t waste an ounce
of sacred feline energy to pounce –
to wing one, much less claw it dead.
It’s all atavism in the cat well-fed.