Panther

by Cath Barton

Cat prowls in the savanna.
Her blue eyes glint and flash in the sun,
Her black coat gleams, as sleekly she slinks
After her prey that darts and jumps.

Who is the smarter?
Who will win?

Cat shakes the morning dew from her velvet paws.
Carefully she places each one between jewelled grass stalks.
Silence. A swoosh of air.
A slow trickle of sticky, sickly red warmth.

The prey had no chance.
Not a chance.
Not a chance.

In midday heat Cat lies lean and long...
Replete, asleep, her chest rising and falling,
As vultures flap down and tear fiercely
At suppurating remains of Cat’s repast.

Savanna life is hard,
bloody
and cruel.

Savanna life is sweet for the panther,
Queen of the rippling expanse of grassland.