Delusions of Grandeur
I don’t write a lot of poetry, but occasionally something slips out…
Delusions of Grandeur
By Richard Stephens
Warily, the heavyweight prizefighter limps slowly through the shards of broken shadows, those cast softly upon his alley from the dirty street lamps beyond his privileged domain
Shrouded by hair as black as the moonless night, he patiently moves with a lifetime of practice, doggedly stocking his near silent and illusive prey-Solely to fulfill his primal needs
Like body armor, his thick scabby feline coat bears the scars of a soldier of fortune, hiding the lean muscular body of the warrior within
Anticipating the unexpected in each step his dark piercing eyes scan the arena with relentless resolve, searching out the slightest breath of movement
Lifting his perceptive nose to the sky he sniffs the still night air
Suddenly! His sharp eye catches the nearly imperceptible movement of an unfortunate victim and with lightning speed darts from the gloom of the filthy dumpster
Through a paper-thin crack in the broken brick wall he follows his agile quarry as it leads him to its point of final stand
With ice water running through his veins, he attacks his prey with abandoned fury impeding its every attempt to escape with a slash of his razor sharp claws
With a final cry of defeat, his victim ultimately succumbs to his attacker’s advance and exhales its final last breath
Cautiously guarding against the ever-present interloper, he eagerly devours his prize, satiating his voracious hunger at least temporarily
With his conquest complete, he carefully preens himself. Licking the remaining scraps of triumph from his powerful paws, he savors the spoils of victory
Displaying delusions of grandeur, he perches atop the gritty green dumpster as if though it were his throne and watches suspiciously over his realm
His alley! His kingdom!
As the lone sentry of this imposing kingdom, he guards against all intruders because in this harsh shadowy battle for life, the majestic alley cat cannot afford the luxury of friends
