Animal
Rights
Online
Animal
Rights
Online

Poetry

The Little White Cat

There is a little white cat in the bookstore
chirping, breeping.... looking into my eyes
Oh, look, look who found me...
its my little white cat!

There is a little white cat on the chair arm,
looking out the window, with a Scotty.
Looking out the window at the old barn,
He will play there later....

There is a little white cat in the meadow
running back from taunting the dogs
that belong to the landlord,
foolish, daring little white cat..

There is a little white cat on the bed
kneading me to sleep
kneading his way to China
patting my face goodnight...
everynight, is the little white cat

There is a little white cat beneath
the rhodedendron...
stretched out like a little white panther
looking proud

There is a little white cat dancing
oh, up, up... he almost caught that bird!
he can fly, he surely can fly
can my little white cat

There is a little white cat in my arms
looking out at the horse pasture
looking out at Hawk Hill...
watching the unicorns run down
the moon slip.... telling me *I* can dance there

There is a little white cat on the forest path
darting ahead of me, back to me
around me, up a tree
then always beside me
my little white cat

There is a little white cat
in a carrier
moving again, moving with me
comforting me, being there
my Moon Kitty... my little white cat

There is a little white cat
opening my soul....
and where I was rigid,
now am I fluid... and open.. and growing
oh, that little white cat...

There is a little white cat -- aging
the dance has left his eyes
and he is hurting.... oh dear,
how can I part... with my soul...
with my little white cat...

All of last night I touched your silky fur...
and you purred, and groomed me
and my heart almost broke..
and with dawn I cried.. How
could I part with my little white cat......

I could part with my little white cat
because I loved him... because I love him still...
because he was my soul-kitty, who made
all the difference in the world
to my path... to my life

Achi Melech means "my brother the king",
and he was
I know that he is waiting at the Bridge
or soon will be...
but my house is Hugely empty as I write.
Oh but such a Little white cat
can leave the biggest empty space behind....

Copyright (c) Sage (Carla) Pickering
April 1998
[email protected]

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