a whisker of poetry

For some of my simian readers, it is world poetry day so to mark to occasion a few words from Marge Piercy who obviously has had cats as her intimates. An excerpt from her pome, The Cat’s Song

Come and I will teach you to dance as naturally
as falling asleep and waking and stretching long, long.
I speak greed with my paws and fear with my whiskers.
Envy lashes my tail. Love speaks me entire, a word

of fur. I will teach you to be still as an egg
and to slip like the ghost of the wind through the grass.

and goodnight.

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