Jaba the hut my late, night intruder

Late at night the door gradually creeks open wearily shedding undesirable light.

The unknowingly mocking scratches on the lifeless cold floor.

The silent swishing sigh of the intruder’s tail gracefully swaying in the air.

Closer crept the soft patter of velvety paws.

I could feel my bed dip like weight was being added as the intruder crawled into my bed.

I woke up from my slumber as silky fur tickled my skin.


Groggily  I  opened my eyes to a scene of orange and white on my window sill.

With smiling sigh and a head shake I recognized who it was it is Jaba the hut my mom’s cat.

Jaba looked at me and I said, “Jaba what are you doing?”


This poem is about: 
My family


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