Thursday, July 26, 2012

A little cat poem today because cats make the world more beautiful...

unless they happen to be horking up a hairball. 
Nobody can be gorgeous all the time.

A little cat poem about a little cat

The cat sleeps in my chair

at the table

I tip the chair slowly

imagining  she will slip gently down

land easily on her feet

and find another spot to lick her paws

and loll and purr and sleep

her claws cling to the wicker seat

with the tenacity of a burdock in a wool sock

fibers of the wicker chair snag and snap

enough for her to lose her grip

the cat stands for a moment


she slinks off

there are more comfortable places to sleep




I sit with my toast and my book


I have left my coffee in the kitchen

30 seconds

or less

to walk to the kitchen and walk


I return

to find

the cat

curled and sleeping

in my chair

1 comment:

Paul Pickering said...

or its evil twin.
which all cats have.
which is why it is
to stay angry or call them
and really, really mean it.
the 7 inch bloody scratch
on my leg is
of an evil twin.