Sunday, October 4, 2020

Sylvia

she was fussy,
this cat,
this feline, a stray taken
in 
during winter.
black as
coal against the snow.
thick with outside fur,
eyes
as green
as shards of bottle
glass.
teeth sharpened,
for the kill. high strung,
loud and moaning.
a pensive
whine,
impossible to know,
or understand
completely.
she reminded me so much
of Sylvia,
and her world of despair
and angst
filled poetry.

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