Friday, 30 October 2015

Until The Cats Come Home

I

During the green season
she sticks to the shadows
melds with the darkness
blends with the foliage.

Sometimes I catch a glimpse
a patch of snow, a smudge of ear
the snake of an eye
that fades if I go near.

II

The stairs creak
and the frame shifts
with little explosions 
in the wood

thoughts turn 
to fires and ghosts.

III

The honeycomb of jade mirrors
combine to glow, the gold reflectors
wait in a soft shape:
stares a hole through my door.

She swims in her mackerel coat
across the graveyard slates, 
the shipshape planks.
Her transparent claws 
hook, grapple 
the armchair sides
as she glides 
into the lap of the fire.

Makes a nest of a shoulder
the fine antenna 
of down twitch whiskers, 
the pig pink nose 
nuzzles the nib of this pen, 
scrawls her hooligan motion
onto the page of this blank ocean. 

4 comments:

  1. Beautiful work - puts me in mind of two cats of emphatic character I used to 'own' when I lived in England. Now long gone of course, but the reminder is sweet. Thank you. (And I much prefer your take on Cats to Eliot's.)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Nick. Love that 'own' in inverted commas.

      Delete
  2. That is by FAR, the best, most colorful cat poem I've ever read...okay, it's right behind "Jubilate Agno" by Christopher Smart. ;-) xo

    http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/poem/2009/10/in_nomine_patris_et_felis.html

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Marion. Wow, that puts a spring in my step!

      Delete

Pages

Morlock Oil

Morlock Oil
A new collection of stories available now . Click on image for details.

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery
New Chapbook Available (email rockinahill@gmail.com for details)

Furrow

Furrow
Bunchgrass Press

Essential guides for the journey...