Every night the cat comes and roosts next to me. Even if she has been attending to another member of the family, there is always the moment of her padding lightly and with purpose across the comforter like so much thick snow and settling herself, back turned, tail flicking, nonchalant and without obvious expectation unlessContinue reading “Patience”
She flips and flopsa furry sponge soaking up the sunseeking fiery heat inside or outmaintaining a constant state of roastinside and outhot to the touchpat the pet and watch her glow This poem was in response to a verb prompt. How about those whiskers? The old girl is 100% pampered, 100% loved, 100% of theContinue reading “Bask | The Whiskered Exposition of a Verb”
Her castle is a canyon; her feather bed is a rocky crevice, sweet and hidden as the truth she keeps in feet that pad upon the earth, ears that know the smallest sounds, life that accumulates beneath the nails of her lethal, inscrutable claws.