House Panther
In August of 2022, my dear friend Sala urged me to write poetry, the below poem being my first. The early frosty mornings in Armidale were that much sweeter with Biscuit, my beautiful, soul cat. Sadly, Biscuit passed away when she was only 3, but I am grateful to have this poem to remember my time with her.
Tiny pawprints on my naked breast,
you chirp, mimicking your morning prey.
A hungry cuckoo, how sneaky you are!
Your winter coat beckons my numb fingers,
as you press our chins to touch.
I’ve missed you, sweet predator!
What did you snatch as I dozed?
A housefly? A silverfish?
It’s not in your nature to boast.
Here, rest in the crook of my arm,
and dream of deer-like spiders.
