Kitten.
early morning,
grey and dead,
like the circles under my eyes,
like i'm sure my lungs and heart would seem.
orange leaves litter the once emerald green lawn.
when did it happen?
i didnt see them fall,
i didnt notice death hanging so violently in the air.
i can see my breath,
its the only evidence that i am alive.
i dont feel as strong as i once did,
i dont feel as though it's worth it.
dragging my sneakers along the pavement,
feeling rocks and pebbles under my soles.
i push the hair from my eyes,
walk with my head held up.
no one would ever guess the feelings i hide so shamefully.
and i wait on the corner,
only two cars pass by.
im sure they dont see me.
a small grey kitten,
red collar,
orange eyes,
unsure whether or not it wants to come see me.
i hear my own voice now,
'shhhhhhh,'
i say.
'it's alright'
it collapses at my feet,
fat tummy,
pink padded feet in the air,
warm fur, softer than anything i've ever felt.
when i get picked up, i dont want to leave the kitten
something so small,
so ignorant,
made me feel safer than i have ever felt.
i want to cry, or stay on that corner all day,
watching as the sun rises and falls,
as the dew dries up,
and as the grass becomes brittle.
sitting,
watching,
the world pass by.
i'd rather do it here than trapped in an establishment.
Copyright © Lisa Barton | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment