Almost as if
I need to put my fingers on his hands
and feel the prints
of the nails
last night
I remember my cat curled up
in her bed
a gray heaving ball of fluff
also my other one
a tabby
caterwauling
at another feline beyond the glass
whose face was pale
in the baleful moonlight
and if I try hard enough
I can still hear and smell the burnt English
muffins popping up
in the toaster as well as
taste and feel the butter
in its nooks and crannies
there's so much
on the surface that needs
to be explored
I doubt I will ever be able
to get much deeper
then the night before
Whit Howland © 2019
Dec 3, 2019
Dec 3, 2019 at 11:26 AM UTC
Almost as if
I need to put my fingers on his hands
and feel the prints
of the nails
last night
I remember my cat curled up
in her bed
a gray heaving ball of fluff
also my other one
a tabby
caterwauling
at another feline beyond the glass
whose face was pale
in the baleful moonlight
and if I try hard enough
I can still hear and smell the burnt English
muffins popping up
in the toaster as well as
taste and feel the butter
in its nooks and crannies
there's so much
on the surface that needs
to be explored
I doubt I will ever be able
to get much deeper
then the night before
Whit Howland © 2019
Exploring the meanings of words, and reprogramming the mind to think differently about them.
