Foiled

By Pam Woolway

Hunger drives her to explore all the dark places;
empty crumb-filled corners

A hollow belly eclipses risk;
she nudges her whiskered head through the tattered hole

Weary waitress at midnight races toward home;
driving fifty in a thirty-five

Nocturnal, curious, feral and unrefined,
two girls working nights

Feline silhouette wavers drunkenly,
blindly staggering toward the street

Tires swerve to the shoulder;
slipping on wet grass

The waitress abandons her car and
tenderly stalks the small hooded creature

Her prey senses a predator;
furred muscles contract into a crouch preparing to spring

An arm’s length away,
pluck the metalic chip bag from the cat’s head.