Kittens

I remember, it was just another day for Frank,
With his wriggling hessian load.
With his corse brown sack slung across his back full of furry
paws.
As he headed down the yard to the water butt
by the old well pump. threw his sack down with an un-caring
thump.

I can still hear the little wimpers of distress
the bubble screams of sodden death,

From one hole in the sack poked a paw
as Frank pulled it from the butt
and threw the sack on the floor.

I still blame my-self
ME
and my BIG mouth.