I spied the kitten on the road
in the country outside Dundalk,
thought to take it home with me.
This my first reckoning with a feral cat.
It bit, spat, even mustered a fart
from the reaches of its armoury.
I loosed it in a nettle patch
and went upon my way, whereat
the hissing slowly dimmed and died.
And there, on the uncontroverted throne
of its scalding freedom,
the little fucker sat, alone,
a snicker tall and a hiccup wide,
one single snarling animated burr.
Sun drenched the ears with glory;
dew glittered on the risen back like pride.