A Poem For Sleeping Cats
Yellow and green lamps illumine closed eyes,
yet shed a pale light upon black noses.
There are unsynchronized tail twitches
there are breath-blown whiskers.
Then there are the bodies
the sleek or fluffy, the trans-gendering
of their eclectic, electric souls
forms that can stretch to a feline infinity,
if each one is a varied shade of languid.
Perhaps the cats
are all looking through the same window,
all sleepily
watching sparrows dance with tigers?
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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