Softer the Flying Cat
Softer the Flying Cat sleeps well. Purrs in silence, waves its tail. Wakes up quickly, jumps up high, Softer soars through moonlit sky. The night is Softer’s and its alone, the world is Softer’s and stars its throne.
Softer hungers, wants something sweet. Clouds are cotton candy treats. The Flying Cat zooms toward the puffs, devours till its had enough. Softer’s belly mostly full, it finds a stomach filled with wool. Throat half-parched and organs burst, it dives toward lake to quench its thirst.
Softer breaks the water’s surface edge, stays beneath till God’s last dredge. When heavens come to look to save, the Flying Cat stays in its grave. Damnation settles down instead, and Softer sleeps well in its bed.