Writing is dangerous...for words follow commands....
If they choose.
Cat Words, scratching claws sharp, with meaning,
Or jibberish, or half-written, haltingly.
And the Cat arches metaphors
And the Cat purrs simile
And the cat eats alliteration...
If the Cat isn't sleeping, dreaming
Style as scurrying mice...caught, shredded,
Eaten.
Words vary in color, breed, longevity, softness...
And when Cat Words pet us with enough years...
They lie curled by our fireplace
Of Life,
Watching for our last line...
Disappearing with us
Onto the pages
Of Eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem