EVENING, a Cat Poem

Poet Vargus Pike told me that a person who has written a poem is a poet. As I’m pulled more and more into writing (thinking, humming, singing) cat poetry, I have to wonder if that’s true. When I think of a poet, I think of someone with the arcane ability to set words perfectly, supra-perfectly, in such a way that a picture emerges, all senses engaged. I have no illusion that my rough-hewn cat poetry falls into that class . Still to me, they are poems, so perhaps I am a poet after all.



Quiet now.

The grooming done.

The running done.

The m’rowing done.

The racing and chasing,



I cannot resist

the whiskered cheek,

the striped fur.

I touch;

he wakes, stirs, purrs,

then settles again

into the landscape of

kitty dreams.



About Mollie Hunt

Loves cats. Writes books.
This entry was posted in Cats, Poetry, Secret Soul and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to EVENING, a Cat Poem

  1. chrisscatmeow says:

    I just loved your poem it’s so true in every way.x 😻💕

  2. Allison says:

    Your poem is peaceful and accurate. It made me smile.

    I used to write poems years ago. Maybe I’ll have to try again.

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