A Hungry Cat

Meeeow. Meeeow. Meeeow.
Hungry. Dirty. Emaciated.
One could count its ribs.

Its meows were faint.
As the longing, green eyes
Stared pleading.
Begging for just a morsel.

There, now—a bowl of milk
And some bread.
And a portion of meat.

Slowly and cautiously,
It approached the spoil
With a few soft meows—
As if to say thank you.
'Thank you very much.'

© W. Salley