This Simplicity:
A cat with nine little lives
is in her springtime
Cherry blossoms bloomed
and she fought and defended.
Now she is sleeping.
Claws stretch tense and curl.
Her black fur rises and falls
like the shortened days
The wounded shoulder
a mark of home at last.
Now she is sleeping.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
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1 comment:
There is a sadness. I never wanted a pet, and one of the reasons is knowing that sometime I'll have to say goodbye to her.
Especially if she doesn't agree to become a sailing cat. If she doesn't like the sailboat, she gets the shovel. She's been warned.
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