Calico
She does not try hard
to be good
at any one
thing.
Lounges long,
stretch jumps raw
fish in loose pink juice,
snags the fray and
dangle yarn shreds
off rubbed armchairs,
bait-snatches shadow puppets
from the wall's low-
light corners. then
all at once--nothing
moves her
glance. She is nautilus-
shelled into the couch's
right angles
coddling
her efforts. Naturally
good at these things
she does not
try hard
at all.
2 comments:
i dont take this as not trying too hard in a bad way...calico makes me think it a cat...as does some of your imagery...i think my cat has much to teach me you know...smiles...
I had a dear kitty I loved so much when I was a little girl... followed her around for three weeks, inseparable we were. She wouldn't stay away from the chicken house - killed a number of young babies and we had to give he away to a horse barn on the other side of town. I have never owned one since, but whenever I see one, I think of her. Obviously I liked your poem :)
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