Because we all want to write more poems.
Evening for Geno
That cat sleeps all day while I'm gone
He sleeps all night in the crook of my knee
In the evening when I read
He settles onto my shoulder
To purr and snore in my ear
In his youth, he was a hunter
Of mythical proportions
Feared by mice and moles
Hoisting rabbits onto the porch
Once he caught a hummingbird in midflight
And swallowed it whole
He howled with the coyotes all night
Kept the cougars and bears away from our
cabin in the north woods
On occasion he attacked me
He still does
Although the squirrels wander
through the yard untouched.
- Neil McKay's Shared Poems
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Comments
Benjamin Gorman
November 7, 2012
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I like this. I like to write
I like this. I like to write paeans, and this is one. Can't rightfully call it a eulogy (or elegy?), since the cat, I take it, is still alive. But the mythic midsection is fine praise for his kind.