The Cat's Cradle Poem by Mark Heathcote
The Cat's Cradle
Rating: ★5.0
Hold it as a child could
only the melting snow,
love is a living hope,
hope, a living hell.
Love, is a dew-lit web
strung across our hearts
in love alone do we worship?
In death are we - then loved?
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: cats,hope,snow
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8/29/2026 1:49:23 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
