On the roof of the carport
ten feet above ground
I quiver and pace
without making a sound.

Below me there sits,
hunched still in the road,
a cat as black
as a midnight rose.

Oh, how I want it
yes, surely I do,
to bark at and play with
and chase around, too.

But the grass looks so far
to get to from here.
Can I jump? Will I land?
Fritz—the dog with no fear?

No rule for dogs
like the one for cats—
always land on their feet—
but I’m likely to splat.

Look at you down there,
peering up with gold eyes,
just watching and teasing me
but I won’t fall for your lies.

Come get me you say
I won’t run away scared.
Well, I may be little,
but I’m fierce as a bear.

I’ll fly off this roof
if it’s the last thing I do.
You bratty black cat,
I’ll be sure to show you.

I’ve been biding my time
but now the moment is here
the humans are distracted
the coast is clear.

I’m backing up, digging in
I’m preparing to fly
Look at me—I’m soaring!
I hope I don’t die!

Ouch. Yeah, that hurt,
but not enough to slow down.
I’ll get you, my pretty
if I have to run clear through town.

Across the grass and the street
through the neighbor’s trim yard
I’m chasing you, chasing you!
that leap wasn’t so hard.

I’d do it again,
in an instant, I would
just to see you puff out
like a good scaredy cat should.

Hey! There’s my owner
he’s spotted me now.
I’m so proud of myself
should I take a bow?

Oh, crap, he looks mad
what should I do?
He’s picking me up
and swatting me, too.

Fritz, he says,
you’re a bad, bad dog,
but I don’t care what he thinks
all I hear is applause.

The neighborhood mutts
are clapping their hands.
You’re our hero, they say,
shout my name through the land.

Inside, on a leash
my owner’s making me pay
but just so he knows
every dog has his day.

Filed Under: Remodel Stories |