Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; Selves - goes itself; myself it speaks and spells, Crying "What I do is me: for that I came." ~G.M. Hopkins
Friday, September 22, 2006
cat lady
Mainly she is kind.
spreading bird seed
in the feeder
hanging in the maple
that shades the front
so completely
that grass cannot see to grow, and whose
keys litter bare ground each year in
twirling fetal hopes
her hand
is smaller than you thought
reaches out from a too big
faded grey and fuzzy sweater
it has tissue paper lines that
you wait to crinkle as
she opens and lets go the seed
her step
is small, as she shuffles
back inside
Mostly she is alone.
except for her cats, who
rub her tiny legs – and
usually - will sit
with her
to watch the shaded yard
for birds.
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2 comments:
Love this!
:-)
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