Tom Cat
By W.S. White
Tom Cat
No longer afraid of being alone
In the dark
A yearning, fragile moth
Delicately clings to the warm window
Where the yellow glow is blind
To the pre-morning, cool dark
Asking to be age once remembered
Awkward, indoor violet
Lacks the minor struggle to endure
The dependence on a whim
Afraid to run out of daylight
Stones like small, smooth egg shells
Sit at the foot
How long has it been? Bright, glowing
Sun sifts through plant leaves
Making an intricate, lacey shadow
On dimpled surface
A striking surprise of chilled air
Makes you tense
Anticipating easy warmth of being inside
Who's work is this?
Ready for reward of day to day
Subsistence