My first thought was to write about a baby pangolin, because have you seen a picture of a baby pangolin?
I have more predictably settled on a cat. Because of course.
Here's my take:
Not on a hot tin roof, not even once,
she sits on sills, twitches
at squirrels and birds, bugs and grasses,
shadows, dead leaves. She chases and hunts
in dreams, imagines fangs and claws,
spikes her felt bird when she wakes.
You can find the poems by my poetry sisters here. Edited to add: And Andi is finally back and joining us this month!: