Wednesday, December 23, 2009

In The Day Of The Gray Cat


In the day of the gray cat,

I find my tongue--

Can speak again,


But I am as soft as a secret kept.


Controlling the weather

Is only a cheap parlor trick for a gray cat--

And controlling dreams

Is not even desirable.


Listen--

Cats have already forgotten

All that priests or poems can teach;


In the day of the gray cat,

I will curl up in a crescent moon,

Unreachable and insouciant...


That's when you will want me again, in the clear and certain instant that I no longer care.

______

10 comments:

Riot Kitty said...

Did I ever tell you that when I lived in NYC, there was a lesbian cruise bar called Meow Mix? So God help me, every time I see it in the store (or in these poems), that's what I think of!

mac said...

"That's when you will want me again, in the clear and certain instant that I no longer care."

I am both saddened and uplifted by this last line.
The reality of it is almost unbearable.

Shadow said...

lemme be a cat in my next life...

ellen abbott said...

"That's when you will want me again, in the clear and certain instant that I no longer care."

So much freedom and pain in that.

Cloudia said...

Another of the masterpieces that you just seem to cast off like snakeskin, You ARE something, Shay, and one of my favourite folks, Sistah



Aloha, Friend!
Happy Holidays


Comfort Spiral

Joanna Jenkins said...

Sad but beautifully written.
I used to have a cat that looked like that :-)

xo

Daryl said...

Merry Christmas!

Enchanted Oak said...

I love your cat poem and the photo too. Your kitty looks like my kitty (see post Dec. 26). It was fun to visit.

Shark Butt said...

You are so right!

Have a happy day,
your fren,
Sharkbutt

Mama Zen said...

That last line is amazing.