of Mary Oliver's "Morning"
My Improv':
Rain freezes against a window in mourning.
Water in a blue bowl. The white-washed panes.
The cat, already awake, rouses me with his teeth
at my chin. Ways of a hospitable carnivore, or
domestic. I stand bare on the cold hardwood and bow
down to him, run my hand once over his coat.
No comments:
Post a Comment