The golden leaf

wafted

this way

and that

as though it meant

to go anywhere

but

down.

“Come catch me!

I dare you!”

it seemed to say.

The white tip of Patches’s patchy tail

twitched

and her eyes—

as golden as the leaf—

blazed.

“I want . . .

I want . . .

I want . . . ,”

she chirred.

And her wanting grew more fierce

with each saying of it.

So fierce that,

without thinking what she was doing,

she         sprang

at the window screen

that stood between her

and

the

falling

leaf

and all the rest of the wide world.

To her astonishment

the screen gave way.

And Patches found herself standing

among the red berry bushes

that grew

around the base

of the house.

All this happened so fast

that the leaf

still floated in the air.

It twirled,

dipped,

drifted toward the grass,

and then . . .

just as Patches crouched,

ready to leap again,

another breeze tossed the leaf high.

She pounced and

missed.

The chase was on!