Sable Grey Shadow
Sable Gray Shadow
by Laura Summerville Reed
My little night owl. My sable-gray shadow.
You fly into my bed; attitude arch
as your slender tail punctuated into a questioning curl,
“Why was I not invited here?”
Insinuating yourself
between me and my work,
my laptop, my pen and paper,
my book or bed fellow.
You curl in with a few conversational mews,
and the expletive flick, flick, flick of your tail
to ensure I've understood that further slight
will not be tolerated.
My cinereous little goddess.
My little yellow eyed minx.
You demand fidelity of me.
You destroy the edges of rugs with your tiny games of captured prey.
You sulk watchfully from high places
You cross the room to slap at the sleeping dog
when you haven't gotten your way.
You turn your back aloof from my cooing attention.
You flirt brazenly
with another's fingertips or shin.
You slink the gloss coat of your lithe frame against
furniture legs or even the dog
when I call you to my side.
Then the insistence of your purrs and your wedge-shaped face nuzzle to reclaim all of the attention held inside my resting palms.
And with an exaggerated yawn of dismissal and a full body stretch
you curl back in to the hyper-alert oblivion of feline nap.
Did I dare to disturb you from the business of sleep?
(Those huntress ears and hooded lids discerning the slightest breath)
With venom-hissed displeasure and warning paw-poised protests.
Oh! My inimitable little shrew.
It's well, indeed, you are so small;
with an attitude as big as yours,
I fear it would be me who “doth protest too much.”
How could I have known when I rescued you,
a scrawny tuft of sable-gray fur, with your
skinned-up chin, and ‘Star Money’
look out on the street, that I’d be getting
such a jealous, selfish, passionate, little love?
©LSR 2010
My Little Kitty
by Laura Summerville Reed
My little kitty has a grey-pink nose
My little kitty’s whiskers are stitched in rows
My little kitty’s tail goes twitch, twitch, twitch
My little kitty is a bitch, bitch, bitch
©LaLeSu 2010
