meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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 White Cat.
Weeding in the garden
near twilight.
White cat mewling,
weaving among the artichokes.
Eyes glowing golden,
almost preternaturally orange-red.
White cat, too light for shadow,
I've been seeing you everywhere.
And in my head.
Last night lingering near the edges
of the porch light.
The other day, near dawn,
staring up into me from under a bush.
And as you stole away, slinking along,
I felt a cold unsettling rush.
Are you the same cat I've been seeing everywhere?.
White cat, what do you mean?
White form that is not shadow,
but fades into grayness when you leave.
White cat somehow I know I'll see you soon
in the corners of my room.
You'll be there waiting patiently past midnight,
having gotten in when my front door was opened
to let the night air cleanse and cool.
You come only in near darkness or past nightfall.
You have been coming closer all the while. Is that you
scratching on my bedpost? I look down
and see your fearful, toothsome white smile.




Copyright July 15, 2012 All Rights Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells. Meloo from her Tilt-a-World


for all the little white cats that float into our psyche and dreams.
for all of the white cats of my past, kneading me in the darkness many moons
after they have passed on.



 



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