The Kitten

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The florist’s had been shut for weeks,
flowers not tended to a petrified forest in sorrowful brown
where an enormous rat sat on the counter, by the till,
tearing open the belly of a kitten,
which was still alive.
The kitten saw me and meekly mewed a plea for life.
The rat’s eyes were shiny buttons of utter contempt
and since the door was locked
there wasn’t anything I could do
but to leave this scene of natures horror show.
But the kitten’s tender miaow
stayed with me for weeks.