Calico Beauty,
Without human effort
you win roars of cherish.
lifting not a gloved finger
you give us what we need.
you are soft-nuzzle tentative:
a humble pad-pad-pad
when it longs to be heard.
all softness in your shrinking night-sky back.
my hand searches for the cold baby-down
and
you are sweetly out of reach.
how sweet
indeed.
Dali’s very own
you take your ocelot pride
with surreal stillness
on a pedestal that is not yours.
and sometimes
you rest in foggy caution
and I steal
a close moment.
but too close!
your headlights flash
and you swim away.
I have not the cruelty to pursue you.