First Impressions of a Kitten
by Kim Cady

I walk down the street
and enjoy that little sparrow
who flew away in front of me...
It's really too noisy though
and wish I knew where my mama was...
I may be on my own now
it won't be easy....
but it sure looks easier than what I see around me
I feel these creatures
angry, impatient, unaware of their surroundings.
They yell and rarely seem happy,
looking down into a small black pool
they hold in their hand...
they get in these huge ugly things
I run away from.
They disappear and I'm glad..
finally it's really quiet and dark...
Nights are so much better...
I found my sister - and she helped me back
to our nest - Mama was there
I ate and slept ... and hoped I'd never have to
leave her and see what I saw today again....

The Community Cat
by Kim Cady

She was back.

The little black cat 

that crossed my path last month.

A small kitty, but in the same place.

I think she's loosely 'owned'.

But, I stopped this time 

and she turned at my clucking 

and sat down gently.
The darkness was friendly,
as I could see she was.
A community cat.
Next time I'll pass more slowly,
and hope she does too...

The Kitten That Could
by Kim Cady

There was a kitten who could
Leap high in the sky
and almost touch a butterfly;
Chase bugs in the sunlight
and all through the night;
Rub green grass with his nose in a proud kitten pose;
Shimmy up a tree
and back down with ease;
Climb mountains of rocks
and hide in loose socks;
Run round and round
and, all dizzy, fall down;
Make a loud mew when he found something new;
Cuddle in mom's fur and purr and purr;
Sleep all day-then just run away;
Smell fresh flowers and play for hours;
Jump in the air just on a dare.

One day, he got taken away
And the kitten who could,
Knew he couldn't do what he wanted to;
Escape the box at the pound,
With its cold, nasty locks
Until the girl came along,
And took him on home.

Then the kitten who could,
Found in the end,
Nothing else mattered,
Besides having one, true friend.

Story & Illustration PhotoArt @2014 Kim Cady

The Homeless Queen
by K.Y. Cady

As the snow swirled around with haphazard momentum.
She felt the pulse of sleet in her head, unrelenting,
Causing her to dance like a puppet with no strings.

Her eyes were crusted with icy fingers of sleet,
as she pushed forward to find her bearings,
traveling terrain she used to know so well,
even in the worst of weather.

Now, she was blinded and shocked with
unrelenting waves of the storms.
Was it time to give up?
To go to her knees and let the air
numb her into a silent sleep,
and snow cover like a new, white blanket
in which she could dream of Spring and
kittens playing rough and tumble through
the tall green, grass?

Not yet, something whispered;
Not yet… the kittens are here;
There have been storms before;
Keep your heart warm,
Don't let the weight bury you -
You see, there it is! - the light, the light ahead…
They would let her in.. she just knew...
they would...

The Monarch's Flight
by K.Y. Cady

I opened my wings to start my journey;
thousands of miles to fly home;

I began in the North, feeding on a friend's
ripe, pink milkweed.
He grew it just for me and my kin.
Strong and brave, I rose above the garden;
Heading South for the ocean.
My gossamer wings stretched out - 
orange, black and gold;
Shining in the sun as it warms my perfect body.
A gentle, southern breeze carried me high;
over the factories and homes below.
I felt weary crossing the blue mountains,
and stopped for energy.
Food was sparse as I lit on dying plants.
Hungry, I continued over the pines
against a strong, western wind.
The rain beat me down.
I hovered on a kind oak leaf until the storm grew weak,
Again the sun warmed my body.
Yet, I couldn’t take flight.
A wing was torn.
I twirled downward as I fell in flight;
landing on a flat wooden branch.
Time passed, precious time until
a large shadow blocked the sun from my sight.
I am no coward, but, dared not look at the final blow.
No, I was lifted, moving, but, without my wings;
Without a pulse of my body!
The grass moved under me;
I watched as dirt rushed beneath my spent self.
The way is clear before me;
but, the clear, smooth wall does not give way.
Lifted up, I am laid gently down past the wall; my torn wing useless.
The shadow touches my broken body, as I shudder.
For frightful moments, I’m pinned and with no way to escape.
Miracle of miracles!
I am freed and set on a ripe, fragrant milkweed.
I drink deep.
Once full, I try my wings.
I am able to soar with no delay!
The shadow serves those who fly wild, I do believe,
It has made me whole again!
I carry on - knowing I am cared for;
as my journey continues . . ..

This time . . .

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