NaPoWriMo 2015

NaPoWriMo #9 – Cat’s Eyes

You grew up with noises that you’ll never understand
but can relate to with purrs that match machinery,
sounds of home that form part of your silence.
You can talk and know I understand you,
our tongues do differ but our language is, at heart, the same.
Food arrives and love is given,
shook out of a box and bouncing loud enough
to wake you from dark corner slumber
or call you in to clatter at the flap.
It’s carried in a shallow bowl, chosen for its patterns and
held up by a thumb that comes back later on to grab your tail,
which vine-like winds its way around my hand.

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