The Cat Without A Tail

By Chaitanyaa Singh

The night was cold and sable,

Leftover food on the table.

Opened the door, went out for a walk,

Wearing my scarf, stood—froze, a shock.

A cat without a tail,

Weeping under the car—maybe he failed, far afar.

Snow everywhere, his footmarks printed,

He needed help, so I sprinted.

Gave him my cap, and took him in my lap,

Carried him home—he surely needed a nap.

Got the woods, worked up a flame,

He said, “A man was to blame.”

I held him close, his fur turned gold,

The room grew quiet, the air grew cold.

Then he whispered soft, “My debt is done,”

And vanished before the morning sun.    

By Chaitanyaa Singh