Cats & Dogs

 

 

There were whiskers on the kitten

and fleas upon the dog,

Embers in the fireplace

that fell from burning logs,

Grandma’s quilt upon the couch

bourbon in her glass,

A teacher’s plaque upon the wall

given by her class.

Tiny bits of memories

are all that now remain,

Little steps and wobbles

made study by her cane.

The dog can sense what’s coming

for death is in the air,

The kitten plays with shadows

and doesn’t seem to care.

 

 

I never set out to write a gloomy,
depressing little poem like this,
so I should mention here that
Grandma is fine.  In fact, the dog
no longer has fleas, and the cat...
well, the cat is sleeping, as usual.

Z. Corwin