more than fifty winters ago
I was a girl avoiding
going home
playing at king of the hill
and pushing other child soldiers
down a small snow mountain
children avoid the painful
by playing hooky and games
don't they?
on the Odyssey home
I ran into two more monsters
two Catholic boys with murderous intent
my only ally fled across the street
and watched one of them knock me down
and break and bloody my nose with his boot
but now the story changes
because a dream has made it so
you entered from the air
a long lithe white comely cat
with razor-like talons
you frightened the boy-monsters away
and as I held my small hand to my nose
it still hurt but was no longer bleeding
you wrapped yourself around my legs
and marked me with your scent
and chirped like I was a favorite bird
the noise a happy feline makes
when its watchful and engrossed
considering a winged thing
but soon enough
the wrapped warmth around my feet was gone
vanished the way a cat leaves
and into the sky from which you always enter
another ghost
memory and present mix
and seem to make a recipe
within a dream is the only way
it seems you do come back to me
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS MUSE/POEM 2:22 AM PST OCTOBER 27 2022 TIME AND DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS DREAM CHRONICLER/POET/WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPY-WRITTEN AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD
