|
Bright Copper Kettles
"Why live?", I ask then search for thoughts
But feelings come instead.
The feel of seasons seen through leaves,
First green, then brilliant red.
Caressing covers in the morn
As sunlight filters in
After nights of lightning storms,
Loud raindrops, thunder's din.
The soft plush sense of silky fur
'Tween fingers 'cross my cat
And I remember how it feels
To hold it in my lap.
Now cats can go. Like lovers past,
They change, they leave, they die.
Yet somehow cats seem permanent
While lovers flee and fly.
I search for meaning firm and fast
For anchors in the storm,
For stakes to hitch my lean-to to,
For firm, not flimsy, form.
Relationships don't fit that bill
Though once I thought they did.
Amorphous clouds of empty hope:
I'm better now I'm rid.
So why do cats enhance my life
They also leave and yet
I feel that I could always find
Another cat to pet.
Someday, perhaps, but not today,
I'll feel what I might know:
That though they change and end and hurt
And swing from high to low,
Despite all that, despite the pain
Relationships could be
Another reason for a life
Continuing in me.
Till then I'll cherish sun and moon
And covers in the morn,
The night's loud thunder, summer rain,
Bright lightning's fluid form,
And pet my cat and stroke it's fur
And feed it 'till it's fat
Secure in thoughts that I can always
Get another cat.
Copyright 03.Jun.1997
James S. Huggins
I was having a discussion with a friend. She expressed dismay at life in general and relationships in particular. And, she expressed the thoughts about the cat, including the "punchline". Much of this poem is simply her thoughts translated into verse. |
