The black cat
The local cat now glared in wrath
For it was I who crossed its path
While going for my daily stroll.
The cat must think its luck I stole:
“What awful luck is now my fate;
My list of lives is down to eight!
No skein of yarn with which to play;
No tuna in my bowl today;
For seven years I’m cursed and doomed —
Misfortune has my fate consumed.
And who’s to blame? Well, do the math:
This human who has crossed my path!”
Don Munday, email@example.com