So here I am again on
the top step
in the evening air,
and those birds
with yellow eyes are
shrieking
to drive me away, but
She stands
and speaks, and the
birds go away instead.
I wasn’t going to come
out here.
The days are getting
hot now
and I’d sooner lounge
inside. But She
brought wine and sat
in that chair
by the door, then
coaxed me out.
The truth is, I don’t
know what I want.
There are days when I
hardly eat,
just can’t get
interested in food at all.
There are days I’m so
damn hungry
no amount could fill
my emptiness.
I visit the spots in
house and garden
where my sister liked
to prop. The spare bed
with the sun coming
through the blind.
The half-hidden space
among the bushes
cosy as a nest, with
its natural camouflage.
Sometimes it helps to
curl up there, in the places
my sister made. But
then it feels wrong,
so I pace and miaow,
restless and cross.
I cry and insist, but
I’m not sure for what,
and call my Person to
me over and over again.
My Person — is She top
cat now, or am I?
I think we take it in
turns. When I call
She comes obediently
to sit awhile, stroke and talk,
but She doesn’t know
how to help me. At times
I help her. I pat her with my paw, very, very gently.
I help her. I pat her with my paw, very, very gently.
31 Poems in 31 Days (Poewar / Writer's Resource Center) Prompt: A Persona poem utilising one of the last two prompts as well. (I guess it's obvious I chose Place.)
Such a beautiful poem, Rosemary. You get closer to the ground. Thank you. Like the old Welsh bard, Daffid ap Gwyllam, you are blessed if you can sometimes turn into other creatures. (If a cat, then no dogs though!)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Rob. Not difficult when I have the alter ego in front of me daily. He's taking it hard, poor old boy — which was to be expected.
DeleteYou have captured his angst so well. He must miss his master. I'm glad you comfort each other.
ReplyDeleteYes, I believe he still misses Andrew. This poems is more about him missing Freya, his sister who left us a month ago.
DeleteGreat poem. Cats sure have their personalities, don't they?
ReplyDeleteI love this poem. It was very effective to capitalize "She." I like envisioning the other possibilities, outside of the cat persona. I rather like believing the "She" to be a deceased loved one you almost become at times, and also an alter ego or alternate personality. Perhaps the speaker is even schozophrenic or "mad."
ReplyDelete"The truth is, I don’t know what I want." This line is key, for me.
Ah, the other half of the writer/reader contract is that once the poem is made public, readers are free to add heir own interpretations, which is almost a new act of creation! :) I'm glad you enjoyed your explorations, but it also makes me wonder if I did not convey well enough the premise I was starting from — in which 'She' is me, seen through the eyes (and imagined thoughts!) of my cat Levi, while he tries to cope with missing his sister, who died a month ago. You're right about the key line. He is very unsettled, and might even be a bit mad at times.
DeletePoor boy - he misses and grieves.
ReplyDelete