The trouser-fur of Corky's belly and legs
Is as white as Mark Twain's linen suit
Or maybe like a pitcher of cream
His eyes are emerald like an Afghani girl
His back like a butternut squash
His muzzle like the foam on porter beer
What is this streak brushing my ankle
As he runs toward the door eagerly?
He has the timing of a strobe light
Or he couldn't brush past a walking leg
'Woiaauu' is his plea to go out
Kept in at night, he tries tomfoolery
Jumps in the dryer with a load of clothes
Rubs his nose against the other cat's face
Until she walks away in a huff
Makes a commotion in his litter box
And finally comes to settle in my lap
Corky you look me in the eye
When I walk past your stair perch
You announce your intentions
With a whirring, mewing soundtrack
You visit my lap at least once an evening
When petted your eyes close halfway
You rub the side of my computer screen
Asking me to notice you
Single hairs blend together in your fur
My fingers feel nothing but softness
Cork-face,
The creation smiled when you took shape
You are a piece of living artistry
Your animal drives are harmonious
Your behavior is balanced
You never beg for attention
You are considerate in your way
Who could refuse your companionship?
Corky, you make me want a place
Where I could settle and keep a cat.
You make me want to scan the want-ads
Where I could find another cat like you
But there could never be a cat like you
With your dignified needs you remind me
Nature is in the business of beauty
By our friendship across species
Every day I unwrap the message you bring
What a lovely poem! I love reading about about animals. They are so stately and beautiful and just so pure and in the moment in their lives. I could spend hours watching them. I used to have a cat. Now I have two amazing and beautiful dogs. Love this! Thanks Denis.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Perfect description using original similes helps us to imagine your cat and its antics very well. Talking friendship across species, I’m just back from Australia where my sister’s family raises orphan kangaroos. Have them living in the house with them, as well as outside. Amazing to see the vines of affection between the roos and the humans.
Thanks. Your sister must be a remarkable person! I like your phrase " VINES OF AFFECTION." That's a poem-writing prompt in itself. I once envisioned human connections as a jungle of invisible vines: they grow along each street, intersecting in public places, and branching off to penetrate into every home and room. Of course, animals are our fellow beings, so the vines grow between us and them as well.