A Cat and Sparrow: a poem


Staff Writer
A plane of clear melted sand
Separates the creature
From the world and its wonders.
No longer would the beast
Know the pinpricks of winter air
Nor the exhausting fragrance
Of flowers a-blooming,
Entrapping the mind with
Visions of springtime a-coming.
From his window perch,
Eyes like a hawk,
He surveys the outside world.
He’ll be forever forced
To see others living lives
So much freer, so much livelier,
While he’s trapped in his ways.
Ah, it’s awful sometimes.
Being a house cat, that is.
Unlikely as it may be,
The cat fell in love with a sparrow.
Against his better
The sparrow titters away
As her wings flitter storm winds.
Her ceaseless chatter echo,
Reverberating against the
Whitewashed aluminum siding.
She perches on a window’s ledge,
Tangos her way to the glass,
And signals to a friend.
The cat saunters slovenly,
His paws dragging tracks
Through the cashmere carpet
As he approaches the windowsill.
His legs compress themselves
And expand as he exalts.
They really lucked out this time.
She and he could never be.
The universe sought to affirm that.
They speak no common language.
They have very little in common.
The cat is an admirable creature,
Able to contort himself,
fitting whatever box he faces.
Except for that one special box:
The box nature has stuck him in.