Paws thunder across the
kitchen floor--my ears sensitive
from last night’s pub crawl.
Watches me with dainty
feline eyelashes. A pounding head
hard for her to understand
the way I feel. Late with breakfast
I apologize with hurried preparation
she’s staring. Can’t make up her
mind to wait or hurry outside.
Deciding on the latter an agitated
“Meoww” opens the door.
© Richard L. Provencher