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The Catalyst -- An Original Poem by Bobbi A. Chukran

 For Freebie Friday, I offer for your entertainment an original poem reprinted from my first collection HALLOWEEN THIRTEEN--A Collection of Mysteriously Macabre Tales. Enjoy! Bobbi C.

Catalyst – A Poem

Anyone who lives with cats has observed this strange behavior.

The olde folks say that when the silvery light of the harvest moon

strikes the edge of the oak grove at just the right angle

Something from the roots of the pin oaks

slithers out and comes to life.

They say that when that Something from the roots

comes alive, it snakes its way into the

local feline population and bewitches them

like some primal bizarre fairy tale,

and their eyes gleam like rubies

and they go insane for about four hours in the

middle of the bright moonstruck night.

Their backs arch and their rat-thin tails bush up

as big as evergreen trees and this frightens them

so that they bush up even larger.

They go seeking fresh meat dripping with warm blood,

even those who usually turn up their

nose at anything but their everyday kibble,

their eyes big and dark and luminous

in the moonlight their howls will

raise the hair on the back of your neck.

The males seek females

and the young and frisky chase the old

until they fall down in a heap from exhaustion.

Hissing (oh, you've never heard such a noise!)

and growling and general caterwauling

can be heard all the way to the far side of the village

during those nights when the harvest moon

alights the edge of the grove.

At dawn the Thing slithers back

to its womb of roots and soil and stones

to await the next emergence

and the cats skulk back home,

blink their dilated eyes in surprise

at the sunlight,

curl up,  and ease their heads down

on their paws and wait…

wary and watchful,

for the next harvest moon.

Reprinted from HALLOWEEN THIRTEEN--A Collection of Mysteriously Macabre Tales
Copyright ©2014 Bobbi A. Chukran