this is about my cat...black with a tiny white patch


Bony


Your ribs protrude like grill plates,
Shoulders marking my arms,
Filaments in your limbs cracking
As you try to pull away.

Paws unfolding
As your hygiene routine re-starts
randomly, with that sandpaper tongue
Smoothing, indicating

Rectangular, not cylindrical
Shapes conforming, bending, igniting
You get more than your fair share
Miss Spoilt, feline corgi,
Quasi-royal

You stretch, into the crevice of the cushion,
The alley between
Flat as a pancake as you lay
On the ironing board,
Oblivious of its purpose.

Yet as you curl yourself,
A furry echidna,
You look so small
And fragile




Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 398 times
Written on 2006-08-25 at 00:16

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