A prose & a poem

Meow, it’s almost lunch time. At exactly 12, the human collects my dish and returns with a feast of cubes of chicken lathered in gravy and beef the shape of my eyes.

The pleasant rays of sun shower the place I will stay digesting the food. It will be very toasty! I continue to wait but my eyes chance upon The Floating Bird.

The Floating Bird only sways unlike the maya that jump relentlessly on the windowsill. It doesn’t chirp waiting for the human to throw seeds. The bird has never been hungry.

What if I help it? Oh! The human is here!

Meow, it’s almost lunch time. There is still no beef and gravy
The sun is keeping the floor toasty, is that the—
Floating bird you continue to sway, I like you
More than the maya that jumps and chirps ceaseless
Are you not hungry? Why don’t you fly away
Or join the mayas’ feast? Oh wait, I see! You can’t
I’m already on the ruby chair so hang on!
Oh, human! You are back with my beef and gravy