A little black kitten sat, lonely and sad. No one would love her. They thought she was bad.
She was unlucky, according to them. They kept her locked up inside of a pen.
Each day she peered out at the world passing by, hoping that someone would give her a try.
One night as she lay in her pen, nearly napping, an old wrinkled witch wondering past started tapping.
The tapping sound woke the little black kitten who was very excited to get some attention.
The ugly old witch smiled so sweetly at her. With a glint in her eye, the witch spoke as she purred.
“You’re coming with me, little one.” she began. She winked with one eye and the cat appeared in her hand.
So relieved to be out of that pen was the kitten. The two of them gazed at the other, each smitten.
“Your name is Spirit because you survived. You never gave up until I arrived.”
With that, the old witch held Spirit so tight. They flew away happily into the night.
For more poems by Cynthia Seer, click here.
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