The Maine ****

Snow-covered, the fierce cat awaits.

It’s eyes grew, as it stares,

the ears pointed up elegantly to the sound of squeaky mice,

wired whiskered fanned out from his small pink nose.

A mouth caged with white daggers, or the wires of a porcupine.

Cold legs wrapped in furry tights 

and sharp talons that grip onto the oak tree.