Sunday, February 19, 2006

Old Cat

Betsy McKenzie

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:

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