Songbird Poem by noel maddock

It’s a songbird
No
It’s a raven
What’s that sound?
It’s cat talk
Big cat stare
I’m hanging by my fingernails
On that ledge
Just below the plant
On which grows
The most wicked
Delicious fruit
Ripe for the picking
Above me sphinx eyed
Paws disturb loose offerings
Below as if grinning
Is certain death
By a little of everything

Suddenly
And I realize
For the longest time
I have had a predilection for the feline