Pick of the Litter
Poetry
He’s not like the others:
big, puffy, bear-
cub or badger like, with smokey
fur like silky ash
that’s pleasant to the touch.
Bulky yet dexterous,
he moves with cool grace
through the garden,
investigating & inspecting
the bushes, brush & debris
for signs of life
& lizards.
When born he struggled
mightily to climb out
of the cardboard box
he was imprisoned in
for safety (his siblings merely
scratching & mewing),
an unquenchable energetic
kitten bent on
freedom.
His broad flat face
uncannily human, it looks past
& through you with absolute
indifference,
detached from the things
of this world like a fierce
ascetic, tracking movement
& romping around insanely
one second but letting go
the next, mustard-green eyes
like dusky jewels
in that body of pure
poised dark-grey
as he turns his head
& surveys you walking
uncertainly up the path
towards him to
worship.
