If I am repaired, can we meet again for the first time, in all of the places I have feared to go, and then, again, in all of the places I will have forgotten, if I am repaired?




SC




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Here is the desk drawer in which all of my odds and ends are kept, tidbits that would otherwise never see the light of day.











Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Soft Tom

A
He’s gentle,
the big orange Tom.
Pads tenderly for permission,
then pleads,
with sleepy green eyes,
to be lapped; caressed.
He doesn’t seem to have it in him,
the inherent midnight brawl,
that boxed his ear,
dotted his eye.
Maybe his heart is the culprit—
why he brings so many scars home with the sunrise.      
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3 comments:

  1. OldfoolFebruary 23, 2011 at 6:55 AM

    Being a Tom is a tough life.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Steven CainFebruary 23, 2011 at 7:28 AM

    O.F.,

    We bring it on ourselves.

    ReplyDelete
  3. HelenMarch 5, 2011 at 10:05 AM

    Saturday morning, March 5th ... I have discovered a talented and most entertaining writer. Mark the day!!!

    ReplyDelete

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