The Hunter Poem by kara towe

A mysterious creature with a sleek back and midnight fur creeps through the field looking for a meal.
With golden keen eyes and padded paws it slowly stalks.
Crouched down it silently walks.
Stiff whiskers poised forward as it continues onward.
Pointed ears swivel to listen to the slightest sound emanating from the ground.
Grasping front paws with sharpened claws momentarily pause.
Suddenly back legs coil and spring to pounce without warning.
Extended front paws with claws grip and with a fatal bite long fangs rip.
In an instant the prey is killed.
The hunter has once again proven that it is very skilled.

Another dead mouse on my porch put there by my son's kitty Miss Charlotte of course.