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Poem	Cat stands at the fridge, Cries loudly for milk. But I've filled her bowl. Wild cat, I say, Sister, Look, you have milk. I clink my fingernail Against the rim. Milk. With down and liver, A word I know she hears. Her sad miaow. She runs To me. She dips In her whiskers but Doesn't drink. As sometimes I want the light on When it is on. Or when I saw the woman walking toward my house and I thought there's Frances. Then looked in the car mirror To be sure. She stalks The room. She wants. Milk Beyond milk. World beyond This one, she cries.
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