Something for 16 Days Remaining:
Poem of A Little Cat, alphabet restraint, A True Story.
A little cat I think I know
between the brownstones in the snow
catching walkers of the neighborhood
drowning them with rubs on shoes
each person who elects to pet me
feline gratitude receives in spades
gee, I love you, gee, I love you,
hey, you love me, too, it seems.
In the late part of Saturday,
just when near my place,
kitten, your wounds make me grab you,
let me take you upstairs.
Meowing only occasionally, pressed near me,
no one notices us.
On up stairs we rise, step, step,
perfect place, warm rooms,
quelling thirst, righting wrongs,
rest, WC, tiny tyke.
Stay to take wound vetting,
to undergo washing,
until, weary youth, you unlax.
Very welcome,
we want you well,
x-rays?
you yawn.
Zonked.
