Idle A While Poem by James Mills

Old cat worrying a twig.
Idle a while, I watch the
sleek, lithe killer toss the stick
with twitching concentration when
birds and bees and windborne seeds,
thought I, would satisfy her more.
Busily and bossily she gathered to
pounce.
It moved; the twig stood up,
I rubbed my eyes,
it swayed; the twig danced tiny circles.
A hawkmoth caterpillar (I found out)
camouflaged and beautiful
with big false eyes
defied the puzzled cat.
I scooped
her prize disturbing her grim pleasure,
set it deep in willowherb and wondered
whose nature was best served?
Inquisitive cat's or
ingenious insect's or
this idle man's.