Saturday, February 05, 2005

Here Kitty Kitty

I sense my death
creeping 'round
like a feral kitten.

Wild-eyed and ears back,
it craves a caress
yet won't come
when I call.

Here Kitty, Kitty.
Come on, it's cool.

Copyright 1994 by Ron Hudson. Previously appeared in Other Voices International Poetry, Vol. 5.

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