When you were a young cat,
Supple, all the bones were knit tight
And moved so smoothly.
So long you chose to sleep alone:
“Do not pick me up!” When at last
I carried you, what a shock!
All those bones come unhinged. So
Light and loose; they didn’t quite
Fit in your skin any more.
Fur that had been sleek, now
Shopworn, eyes gone filmy.
Still, it is the bones that I recall.
January 29, 2006
This image of a very old and shopworn cat is a rescued cat from: