Cats Think Clouds Are Marshmallows Poem by John W. McEwers

Cats Think Clouds Are Marshmallows



There were nights in youth, my youth
that could only be remembered as a yowl
a screech
a bad sleep.

We had a house near the tire plant
and my father's yard, always his yard
had tires planted in it
like spilled Cheerios

Each one, he said, marked the grave
of something that mistook him for a chicken
Dad was a strong and brave man

Once when I was seven, he beat up a man
who knocked on our door in a suit
Once when I was nine, Dad got out of jail
and saved Mom from her new boyfriend with a boot.

I remember, one day Dad brought home a big box,
and shuffled up, like Fred Astaire, to the porch
he opened the box and pulled out a cat,
grinned at me and nodded his head.

He said 'what does that look like' and pointed to the clouds
and I said, at ten years old, 'Like Marshmallows'
Marshmallows, Dad said are loved by cats,
and to watch as he indulged this one's wants.

I remember a snap and a thud, where a cat failed to land on its feets
and Dad planted a new tire and the two of us went fishing.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sara Fielder 03 February 2012

Perfect from start to finish. One of the best poems I have read here.10+

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John W. McEwers

John W. McEwers

Nova Scotia, Halifax
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