Monday, November 8, 2010

In case of KITTENS

The Litter

Where is the truth in the day,

this hot one, that suddenly

arrives from the past?

What does it mean that I was

a skinny, golden being then, with

light-filled bones?

My body was so pale and happy

to be lying in a litter

of new kittens.

Their shallow mewing breath.

Their tiny teeth,


What house, the crumbling

sun porch?

What year?

I knew the smallness

of myself in the world, then –

Is that it?

Or the neighbor girls in lace

and gingham,

the obvious simplicity of life,

the wreath of time,

the neatly-tied bow of


Or is it just that I hadn’t met you yet,

and now yours is the life I stand

all my other lives beside?

Or that after bleeding for them in

the years since,

I’ve lost my compassion for cats,

and that’s what kittens grow into?

The mystery.

I am still lying here.

Their softness is still with me,

even now.