down the hill
I floated…
my bike
splashing through
the puddles left
from the night’s
gentle rain.

I was soaring
and glancing.
Up ahead—
directly in the path
I was forging,
I noticed
a silky black ball
of fur…
a painted white line
down its center.

PROBLEM—you bet…
The little stinker had
its face caught in a cup.

Some-one had
spilled trash
onto the sidewalk
AND now this
tender creature was

I knew I had to
help—BUT, I did
not wish to be
sprayed by its
‘exquisite’ perfume.

I raced home
grabbed  my
window cleaner extension pole
and set off.

When I came upon
the scene—
all that was left…
an EMPTY cup.
There in the bushes—
the leaves dangled
and a velvety tail
slipped away.

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