By the wharf in the evening, a clutter of cats
is attentively focused (without any spats)
on the incoming fishermen bringing their catch.
And for all of those felines who patiently wait
there are generous portions. Who’s first at the gate
is the one who acquires the best of the bait.
Not a one will go hungry, there’s plenty for all
so no fussing or fighting or caterwaul call
will be heard on this night of the fishermen’s ball.
And on many an evening this clutter of cats
will be happily hunting a rabble of rats.